


Catch Me When I Fall

by xMidnightsLullaby



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, Comfort, Drama, Eventual Romance, Friends to Lovers, Heartbreak, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Death, Past Relationship(s), Romance, Smut probably in later chapters, friends to strangers to friends, past trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:27:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28364640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xMidnightsLullaby/pseuds/xMidnightsLullaby
Summary: Two years ago, Yuri changed his homerink from St. Petersburg to Hasetsu for a reason he'd rather not think about. He's fine. He has figure skating. He has his successfull career. He has two great, but annoying coaches. He doesn't need more. He doesn't even want more. Not again.But when he returns to Russia for Lilia's summer training camp, all the emotions he had locked way return when he has a chance encounter with Otabek whom he hasn't seen in over five years. Will he be able to trust someone enough to let loose and fall in love again?
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri & Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Otabek Altin & Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 49
Kudos: 104





	1. Noctis

„Come on, Yuri! Let’s go out tonight. We haven’t been out together in years!” the blond girl next to Yuri begged.

“Meh,” Yuri answered, not even looking up from his phone.

“Pleeease! This DJ is super famous and incredibly hot,” the other girl with long light-brown hair wailed.

“Then why don’t you two go alone? I don’t need to be there when you’re all disgusting and drooling, because of some guy who earns way too much money for not having the be creative at all. If you want to listen to shitty music, all you have to do is turn on the radio.”

Not that Yuri actually minded having to listen to disgusting music that much. Sure it was annoying, but he was used to it. He had heard Victor and Yuuri’s favourite love song playlist way too often during the past years. It was going out that bothered him. Not that HE would probably go to a rock club, but one could never be sure.

“But we haven’t celebrated your birthday yet,” Ana, the blond girl, pouted.

“It’s been over a month since then.”

“But you don’t turn 23 every year.”

“As if 23 is such an important number.”

“But…”

“You’re driving me crazy.”

“Yuuuri please,” both girls begged, looking at him with big round eyes, “it’s been so long since you’ve been in Russia. Just this time.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. In moments like these, he asked himself why he even bothered making friends. Why did people have to be so annoying all the time? It didn’t matter if he was in Japan or back in Russia. There were always people to be a pain in his neck.

He let out a sigh that sounded more like a growl. He knew way too well that is was no use resisting. The years had made him become soft for his friends. Maybe it was the subtle need to protect those two girls who were even more delicate than him in his teenage years, although Yuri knew very well thatthey could protect themselves. But just the possibility of hitting some idiot in the face for not understanding a simple ‘no’ didn’t sound so bad at all.

“Okay!”

Both of the girls squealed and for a moment, Yuri feared that they would throw themselves at him to hug him. Usually, Anastasia and Sofia were pretty clingy – at least with each other. All his friends knew how much he hated every form of body contact. Well, not that his friends were numerous. Besides Victor and Yuuri, who both acted more like his parents than his coaches and Yuuko, Ana and Sofia where the only people he allowed to get closer to him.

Yuri had met them in Lilia’s ballet class a few years ago when he had still been training in Russia and for whatever reason, the girls hadn’t given up on making friends with him. Yuri still asked himself what they had liked about him and why they hadn’t been intimidated by his swearing and angry looks like all the others. They had only laughed at his insults and continued to persuade them to have lunch with them. Yuri didn’t remember how long he had pushed them away, yet at some point he had given in.

For three years, they had been nearly inseparable. They understood each other. All of them were highly competitive, practising until they fainted. Many nights they had supported each other, Yuri serving as a dance partner for them, Ana and Sofia correcting his posture and movements on or off the ice. The girls had cheered Yuri on whenever he had competed in Russia while he had visited every show of them that he had managed to see when he wasn’t travelling. But all of this was different now since Yuri had changed his home rink to Hasetsu two years ago and only returned to train with Lilia during the summer months.

“We’ll pick you up at 10,” Ana said, still a broad grin on her face, “And please don’t dress in a way that makes all the guys ignore us.”

Yuri thought about how some guy might let his eyes wander over his body and he couldn’t hold back a flinch.

“I’m sorry,” Ana immediately apologised and placed her hand over Yuri’s, “I didn’t think.”

Shaking his head, Yuri put on his usual smirk. “It’s okay. What bothers me more is that you both haven’t stopped this ‘hooking up with a guy only together’ thing.”

Sofia examined him with a worried gaze before she and Anastasia both smiled. “It’s a lot more fun that way.”

“If you say so.”

“Ahhh. This is going to be so good,” Sofia squealed again. “Just like in old times.”

“Oh and before I forget: This DJ does compose some of his songs himself, so don’t you dare look down on him!” Ana added.

“Damn fangirls,” Yuri sighed, completely sure that he would regret his decision soon enough.

A few hours later, Anastasia and Sofia were pulling Yuri inside a stuffed rock club. The air was thick and way too warm. Just a second in and Yuri remembered why he hated clubs. Too many people. Too many disgusting smells. But well. People do all things for the people they like. Victor would be so proud of him, Yuri thought while rolling his eyes.

The three of them lined up for the cloakroom so the girls could take off their coats. As they waited, the heat already started to get to Yuri. He rolled up the sleeves of his fake leather jacket to get at least some relieve.

“Oh my god, you have new one? Why didn’t you show us?” Sofia cried exaggeratedly.

The girls had obviously had one or two glasses of wine before picking Yuri up.

“No need to be that loud about a lousy tattoo.”

“I wish I could get one, too,” Ana sulked.

“Lilia will kill you,” Yuri said.

“Why didn’t she kill you then?”

“First, she’s not my official coach, so she can’t tell me to what to do and what not. Second, my costumes hide all the places. Third, it’s my body and I don’t care about what anyone says.”

“It’s beautiful,” Sofia said, her fingers gently tracing the black lines of the fairy’s wings.

“Isn’t it… a little dark?” Ana asked him, her eyebrows raised.

She was probably right. There might be fairy on his left lower arm, but there was nothing sweet about it. The wings were spiky, torn apart yet delicate. The fairy itself was standing proud, blood dripping from its fingers as it held a ripped-out heart in its hand. It looked like it was right out of a horror movie.

“Why?” Yuri asked, “They still call me the Russian Fairy, though I slay my competitors every year. I think it’s pretty accurate.”

Both girls looked up to him and shock their heads, smiling.

After handing their jackets over, the three went into the main room of the club. There was already music playing to get the crowd into the right mood. Some people were doing something that could hardly be called dancing. Yuri would never understand the appeal of rubbing one’s own body against a disgusting, sweaty and probably smelly stranger. Or at least, he didn’t understand it anymore.

“So, who’s playing tonight?”

“Oh, he’s a super famous rock DJ, though you probably never heard of him. He plays a mix of his own compositions as well as his favourite bands.”

“Hm.”

“He’s really good. You’ll like it I’m sure,” Sofia said with a smile. “Most of his stuff sounds pretty much like the pieces you use for your exhibition performances.”

“And if you don’t,” Ana added, “you can drool over him. He’s really, really hot.”

“Like the rest of these desperate fucks? No thanks.”

Suddenly, a bunch of girls started squealing so loud it was audible over the fading music and the room was filled with applause. A figure dressed in a simple black t-shirt stepped to the DJ booth and put on his headphones without even looking at the crowd. The man didn’t bother to introduce himself, he simply started to play the first song. Not a bad one Yuri had to admit.

All around him, people began to dance and Yuri sighed. He hated clubs.

“He’s stunning, isn’t he?” Sofia shouted over the loud music.

Yuri had really hoped to evade such discussions, but it seemed like he had to take at least one closer look at the DJ to make his friends finally shut up. Lifting up his gaze to the booth, henarrowed his eyes. It was way too dark to see anything properly. He had to wait until one of the stage lights was directed at the man. Only for a second he was lighted up in bright yellow light, but it was long enough for Yuri’s body to freeze.

No matter how much time had passed, he would recognise him everywhere. The years had changed him a little, surely, but somehow he looked still the same. He seemed to be more defined, his shoulders even broader. It was dark again and the lighting more distracting than illuminating anything, but Yuri would always be able to judge the added muscles on his upper arms – he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off this body for years.

His heart started beating again- incredibly fast and without rhythm. His throat became dry. Maybe it was just the light, but a few small wrinkles adorned his eyes. But these weren’t the only new things on the man’s body. Both of his arms were completely covered in black ink, countless tattoos gracing the slightly bronzed skin.

His hands danced over the turntables as he skilfully played with the records, one hand pressing his headphones closer to his ears every now and then. After a while, his lifted up his head towards the crowd. Yuri’s heart completely stopped beating when he looked into this beautiful dark brown eyes. Surely, he couldn’t see their colour from where he was standing, but he would never forget them. Who would forget the eye colour of their first love?

“He’s hot, isn’t he?” Ana asked, dancing wildly by his side.

“Um.” Yuri wasn’t able to get out one single word, to overwhelmed by all the feelings that rushed through his body in this moment.

Anastasia stopped moving and looked up to him. “Yuri? Are you ok?”

“Yes, I just… I know him.”

“WHAT?? You know him? How?”

In the back of his mind, Yuri remembered that he had met Ana and Sofia after Otabek had retired from figure skating. He tried to answer, but in the same moment Otabek let his gaze wander over the crowd and his eyes stopped at Yuri who felt like he was about to faint.

Of course, he was only imagining things. There were hundreds people in this club, the sight was covered by fog. Still, he thought his legs would give in when their gazes met. For a second, he really believed that Otabek might have recognised him. Yet he turned away and kept on staring down at his turntables and slowly, air started to rush back into Yuri’s lunges and life returned into his body.

Maybe he should go outside. Try to get some fresh air and get his mind to work again, because right now, Yuri wasn’t able to think about anything. He was about to tell his friends where he was going when suddenly, Yuri felt a buzz in his pockets. Taking out his phone, thankful for a little distraction, he walked to the closest wall in order not to be pushed over by all those people who pretended they could dance.

When he found a quiet place, he unlocked his phone with a frown. An unknown number? Yuri was super careful about whom he gave his number. He hadn’t changed his contact info for no reason after all. With trembling fingers, he opened the message. Reading it, his eyes widened, his heart hammering against his chest like he had run a marathon. When had he…? How?

“Meet me at the back entrance after the show – Otabek.”


	2. Disconnect

Yuri’s heart pounded so hard, he could still feel it in his throat. A metal like taste spread out on his tongue and he was convinced for a second he wanted to vomit. He couldn’t even tell if he was nervous or still shocked at the message. So many questions rose up in his mind, making his head spin even more than before.

How was it possible that Otabek got his number? How had he been able to spot Yuri in the crowd? Why did he want to see him, talk to him? What would he think about Yuri? They hadn’t talked in years. Would he noticed that Yuri was a different person now? Would he be disappointed?

Gosh, what would Yuri give for a shot of vodka. Or maybe two. But he had stopped drinking two years ago and he wouldn’t start again as the taste would probably be enough to actually make him vomit. But he needed to calm down somehow or someone would notice he was closer to a panic attack than he wanted to admit. Some stranger walking up to him was the last thing he needed, although he didn’t want to see the overly concerned faces of his friends either. They had come here to have fun, so he wanted to spare them and himself unnecessary bothers.

Just why didn’t his heart finally calm down? Yuri’s chest hurt so much and the thick air was suffocating. The longer Yuri didn’t move, the more people around him to seemed to come closer. He needed to get out of the club immediately.

Walking close to the walls, Yuri hurried outside as quickly as his shacking legs allowed him. He only was able to breathe freely when the fresh night air filled his lungs. He took a few more steps away from the entrance and the smoking folks right next to it. He didn’t dare to go too far away, but he needed some quiet to sort his thoughts.

Why was he so damn agitated over a text from an old friend? He and Otabek hadn’t parted in dispute. Well, at least not in the end. Of course, it hadn’t been easy for Yuri to hear that the only friend he had had, someone even closer to him than his grandfather at that time would leave him alone. He had been angry, disappointed. Yet before their last competition together, he had understood that this decision hadn’t been easy for Otabek either, so he had thrown away his pride and apologised.

Afterwards, they had tried to stay in contact, they really had. But different schedules, Yuri practising all day and Otabek working during the night combined with them constantly changing time zones had lead their messages to become more and more sparse until they had stopped completely. It had hurt in the beginning. There had been a lot of times that Yuri had thought about shooting Otabek a message about something. But then he had deleted it, not wanting to bother the other one. Would he even think of it as funny? Yuri hadn’t known anymore and at some point he hadn’t even thought about it.

Maybe if Yuri was still the same as back then, he wouldn’t be so uneasy. He would have been happy to meet his friend. But he wasn’t the same and he hated it. He hated to feel like he was going to drown. He hated that he had played with the thought to run away for more than a second. He hated how weak he felt. It had bothered him every day for the past two years, but now it felt overbearing.

What if Otabek noticed the had changed? What would he think about him? Would he think Yuri was weak for overreacting over a simple reunion? For not only hating to go out, because of the mass of people, but also because he was afraid of it? For running away to Japan when he hadn’t been able to stay in Russia anymore without fearing for his career?

Yet, it was still Otabek he was thinking about. He had never been a person to judge. But maybe he had changed, too? Would it even matter? Yuri’s crush on him had been so insanely deep and stupid, he probably wouldn’t mind it too much if Otabek had changed. At least, if his stupid self hadn’t learned anything. If it had, Yuri would already have followed his instincts and run. But he was dumb and curious and some place inside him that wasn’t overwhelmed by fear wanted him to stay. So he would. Even if it was stupid. Even if it hurt him. Because he obviously hadn’t learned his lesson.

The first thing he needed to do now was to go back inside. He would have preferred to stay outside until the show was over, but Ana and Sophia would notice that he was missing too long soon enough and he didn’t want them to find him here. His stomach flipped as Yuri walked though the wall of smoke to return into the club, but he had no choice.

“Where’ve you been?” Ana asked him when he found them in the crowd.

“Just needed some fresh air.”

“Got the hots when looking at him, hm?” her eyebrows raised suggestively.

“As if.”

“You can’t fool us,” she shouted over the music, “but if it makes you feel better, I’ll keep my lips closed. For now.”

“I’d very much appreciate if you kept them closed forever.”

She blew a kiss towards him and returned to Sophia who was dancing a few feet away from them. His older self might have joined them, but he didn’t feel like it at all. Instead, he leant against the closest wall and concentrated on the music.

Now that he paid more attention to it, Yuri totally noticed Otabek’s style. There were lots of elements he remembered from their teenage years, song sketches or melody lines the Kazakh had showed him. Also the songs that weren’t Otabek’s own compositions were quite familiar to Yuri. If he was sappy, he would say they were the soundtrack of his teenage years.

So many memories returned to his mind, pictures of him lying on his hotel bed, his head hanging over the mattress with Otabek properly sitting at the head of the bed as they talked about everything and nothing for hours. More than once, Yakov or Otabek’s coach had had to separate them to go to bed in time for the competitions on the next day. But despite being scolded, Yuri had sneaked into Otabek’s room again the next night, to listen to music while talking or playing video games.

He hadn’t thought about those times in years. They evoked something in Yuri’s chest – a feeling he couldn’t quite put his finger on. All those memories felt like they were from a different decade, a different life. Massaging his forehead, Yuri took a deep breath.

This was a bad idea. A really bad one. Yes, he wanted to see Otabek again. He wanted to get just one closer glimpse at him. But was it worth being reminded of better days he couldn’t go back to?

As Yuri tried to wrap his head around what he should do or not, the time went by quicker than he had expected. He wouldn’t even have noticed that Otabek left the stage if it wasn’t for the people cheering and clapping. It was so much like him to not make a big thing about his entrance and exit.

A smile appeared on Yuri’s lips, thinking that some things probably never changed. It slipped away, however, when he realised that he had to decide now if he would meet Otabek or not. He really was considering letting it slide, when the people around him started to push outside. There would still be music playing for a few more hours, but Yuri assumed they all wanted to go outside to breathe since no one really dared to leave a show while it was still running. His only way to escape the masses was the way outside and away from the front doors where a bunch of people gathered to get their long awaited smoke. Before he even knew, he found himself around the corner of the club in a back alley.

Trying to catch his breath, Yuri closed his eyes and leaned against the stone wall behind him.

“You really came,” a deep voice reached his ear and Yuri turned around so fast he felt dizzy.

It was still dark, only a lamplight a few feet away lighted the alley. But Yuri didn’t need to see Otabek to recognise him. His voice was enough.

“I’m happy to see you, Yura.”

Gosh, this sweet, deep vibration in Otabek’s voice when he said Yuri’s name made the skater’s legs mushy. He remembered just too well what it had felt like when he had dozed on Otabek’s chest. The Kazakh had laughed when Yuri had jumped up, surprised by being woken up.

‘You’re like a cat,’ he had said, ‘you only search for warmth and comfort when you need it. But dare anyone pointing it out.’

Yuri had hissed at him. ‘You got a problem with that? I hate being touched, you know that.’

‘I do. I do. I’m happy I’m different to you, though.’

“Hey, um, Otabek,” Yuri managed to get over his lips.

The name that had been so close to him felt like a foreigner on his tongue.

With quick steps the Kazakh came closer and wrapped his arms around Yuri. The Russian couldn’t even think about it when his body already tightened. Otabek was so close, the heat of his body pressed to Yuri’s. He was too close. Yuri wouldn’t be able to run that way. Otabek held him too tight. He wouldn’t be able to get away in time. He couldn’t breathe.

“Hey? Um. Are you okay?”

The heat withdrew from his body and Yuri opened his eyes again.

Otabek was looking at him with concern on his face. His hands still held Yuri’s shoulders, but he had taken a step back.

“Yeah, sure. I just…” Yuri stumbled.

How should he explain his reaction? It was so embarrassing that he was acting this way around Otabek. This was his old friend. They had hugged a lot in the past. What was his damn problem now?

“I’m sorry,” Otabek said and let go of Yuri. “I totally forgot you hated to be touched.”

“No. No. I’m sorry. I just… wasn’t prepared for it.”

“I see.”

They fell silent and Yuri noticed how the discomfort it caused nagged at his nerves.

“So, did you like the show?” Otabek asked, obviously as uncomfortable as Yuri.

“Yeah, sure. I mean… My friends dragged me here, so I didn’t want to come in the first place. I didn’t know it was you until I saw you. But the music was nice. I recognised quite a few of the songs.”

“You did?”

For some reason, Otabek seemed genuinely surprised.

“Of course. How could I forget the first ones you wrote yourself?”

A beautiful smile appeared on Otabek’s lips and suddenly, Yuri felt as he was 17 years old again. This tingling in his chest and the warmth in cheeks were back as if they had never left. Yes, coming here had been a very stupid idea.

Otabek opened his mouth to drag Yuri out of his self-hate, but before he could, Yuri’s phone buzzed. He wanted to decline the call, but Otabek signalised him with a nod that it was okay to answer.

“What?” Yuri barked into his phone.

“Where the hell are you? Did you leave without us?” Sophia pouted.

“I wish I had, hag.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I hell I would.”

“Anyhow, where are you? We want to go home now.”

“Sheesh! Wait in front of the entrance, I’ll be there in a sec.”

Without waiting for a reply, he hang up and shoved his phone back into his pockets.

“Your friends?”

“Yeah. Damn annoying.”

“Well, I have to admit I’m surprised you even bothered to make friends.”

“To be honest: me, too.”

Otabek laughed and Yuri had bite down on his lips to focus on the slight pain or his legs would give in. It shouldn’t be allowed for Otabek to still have such an impact on him.

“So, you have to leave?” he asked.

“I guess so.”

“I see.”

Again they fell silent, but it was a different kind of silence. Still uncomfortable, but there was something heavy about it. Even meaningful.

“It was… nice to see you again,” Yuri mumbled.

“Yeah, it was,” Otabek answered.

Yuri wondered if he was still able to read the Kazakh’s expressions correctly. Because if he was, Otabek seemed a little disappointed. But why should he be?

“So, bye.”

“Bye.”

Yuri waited for a second longer, somehow hoping that the other one would say something. But he didn’t and Yuri accepted that their reencounter had probably been too weird to expect anything more. He just wasn’t sure how this made him feel.

He turned around to leave when Otabek finally said something.

“Hey, Yura.”

God, this damn name from his lips.

“Can I… see you again while I’m still in town?”

Yuri’s heart beat up to his neck when he turned around in surprise.

“Um… I… Yeah, I guess,” he chocked over the lump in his throat that grew even more when Otabek’s face lit up.

“I’ll look forward to it.”

“Me, too.” Yuri answered automatically.

“Well, good night then.”

“Good night.”

Yuri’s feet walked away from Otabek on their own. He wouldn’t have managed it on his own otherwise. His head was empty, his heart pounding like it intended to break all of Yuri’s ribs. It was only when a light breeze rumpled his hair when Yuri realised that he was totally fucked.


	3. Skybreaker

‚One more lap and I‘ll return home,’ Yuri thought.

His chest was rising and falling quickly, his lungs in desperate need for air. Whenever an icy breeze was soaked in by Yuri’s heated body, the organ ached from the cold although it should have already gotten used to it. Spreading into the last inch of the tissue, the air was emptied of every bit of oxygen it had possessed and was returned into the cold afternoon with a small vapour cloud.

For April it was way too cold and despite practically living on the ice, Yuri wasn’t used to running long distances at such temperatures anymore. Throughout the year, it was so much warmer in Hasetsu than in Russia and it seemed like Yuri’s body wasn’t really used to two full hours of cardio workout below zero anymore.

Well, one could hardly call running at a pace that conjured a metal-like taste his tongue cardio anymore, yet it was right what Yuri needed. At least that way, his brain did shut up – either drowned out by the deafening music in the skater’s ears or unable to work due to the lack of oxygen that was completely occupied by his muscles.

Five days had passed, since Yuri had met Otabek after five years of not talking to him. Their reunion had been awkward to say the least. Yuri was still embarrassed about it. He had tried to forget about it, ignore the probability of meeting once more just to put his mind at ease. Yet it hadn’t worked.

Last night, he had eventually received that message from Otabek. Apparently, his next show in his hometown Almaty followed by a short vacation to see his family would come up soon and he was still positive about meeting up for a second time. Yuri wouldn’t have been surprised if the question about seeing each other again had been asked due to social rules and politeness. That his old friend really wanted to talk to him again after Yuri had behaved like a total idiot didn’t make sense to the skater, but he didn’t mind. He was happy he got a second chance. Or he had been as soon his mind had recovered from the shock of the text. Yuri should really save his number or he would die of a heart attack if he received one more messages from an unknown number.

The feeling of anticipation, however, had quickly been substituted with sheer panic. Otabek would come here. To his apartment. Where they would be together. Alone. Yuri would have nowhere to run. Not that there should be any reason to run. But just in case.

Yuri sped up his steps and felt his chest ached under his heavy breath. His pulse must be higher than during skating. His body was used to incredible physical demands. Yet only over a short period. What he did here was insane, even dangerous, Yuri knew that. But he needed his body to be exhausted. Or he wouldn’t survive this afternoon.

He ran around another corner. What would he and Otabek even talk about? There wasn’t much Yuri could tell him. His life hadn’t changed except for a few minor mistakes he’d rather not mention. The rest, however, had stayed the same. He was still skating. And that was it. He didn’t meet any interesting people. He didn’t talk much to anyone besides Victor and Yuuri. He also didn’t have any new hobbies. He ain’t got time for that nonsense.

Maybe Yuri could get Otabek to talk about his life that was surely way more interesting than his own. He wasn’t the person to talk much, maybe a bit more so after they had gotten closer in the past. Yet even back then, Otabek had always preferred the silence or actions if he actually wanted to convey something. Yuri only hoped it would be different today. Not that he was curious about Otabek’s life now. Not at all. But it would fill the quiet. It wouldn’t be uncomfortable if the air around them would feel as awkward as during the night in the club.

As he turned around another corner, Yuri’s lungs began to burn and the metal taste on his tongue got even stronger.

‘Just a few more metres,’ Yuri told his aching legs.

The last thing he needed was breaking down in the middle of the street, freezing to death until one of the residents would find him. Thinking about it didn’t seem such a bad ide-

‘No! Pull yourself together! It’s just Otabek. It will be fine.’

‘Just Otabek, um?’

The wish to ram his head into the next wall had never been so strong before. Why couldn’t the stupid voices in his head shut the hell up. He was already well aware that Otabek had never been ‘just Otabek’ to him. He didn’t need to be reminded of it consciously. His heart had done a pretty decent job going off like a firework whenever Yuri remembered how warm and familiar Otabek’s voice had sounded in that back alley, thank you.

When Yuri was able to see the building in which Victor’s old apartment was in from afar, he increased his speed once more. He pulled his last strength together and spurred his legs to give everything they had left. One last sprint couldn’t hurt anyone.

Or so he thought, until he ran into someone, nearly bumping to the ground if the other person hadn’t caught him.

“I’m so sorry,” the man in front of him started to apologise immediately. “I didn’t se- Yura?”

Yuri looked up and he wished he had actually fainted a few metres ago.

“Otabek?”

Oh god, talking was not a good idea. Or breathing. Or turning his head. Yuri’s stomach cramped and his lungs felt like they were about to implode as the cold air streamed into them now that Yuri wasn’t moving anymore. He felt so bad, he was either about to vomit blood or collapse. Or both.

Steading himself on Otabek’s upper arms, Yuri closed his eyes to centre himself.

“Are you alright?” Otabek asked and the concern in his voice would make Yuri’s heart loose it’s rhythm again if it wasn’t tired to death just now.

Yuri panted, but raised one finger to signalise Otabek that he just needed a minute.

“You were running?” He asked after a while. “In this cold? Are you insane?”

“As if that was something new,” Yuri managed to press through his heavy breath.

“Not really, but I assumed that you would develop at least a few more healthy coping mechanisms.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on,” Otabek said and Yuri could hear a slight smile in his voice, “you always ran until you nearly fainted when there was something bothering you. I just hope it wasn’t me this time.”

Completely taken aback, Yuri looked up at Otabek. How did he- Why did he remember this? Some stupid, unimportant detail about Yuri. Why hadn’t he forgotten about it like any other person would have.

While Yuri was paralysed by his exhausted brain unable to cope with Otabek’s words, the Kazakh must have misinterpreted his lack of response as something negative.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly mumbled, “It was completely inappropriate to say that. It’s none of my business what’s bothering you. If there even is something.”

“No.” Yuri exclaimed before he even knew his mouth was moving. “I mean… It’s alright I guess.”

He swallowed hard and Otabek nodded. There it was again, this uncomfortable air around them that felt like a dark cloud raining heavy drops onto them.

“So, shall we go inside?” Yuri asked.

“Sure, if it’s alright with you. I’m a bit early, so I can also wait outside until you’re finished.”

“Oh don’t be stupid,” Yuri snapped at him as he unlocked the door.

It was weird how quickly his unconsciousness reacted towards Otabek. When Yuri was conscious of his presence he felt dumb and like a doe dancing around, but when he didn’t give it much thought, his tongue moved on its own. Like it remembered all the words and the intonation he had used when he had been with the Kazakh years ago.

Otabek chuckled and followed Yuri upstairs.

“You can sit on the couch while I take a shower. I’ll make you tea as soon as I get out.”

“Thanks. I’ll be fine,” Otabek said as he sat down in the living room.

Yuri fled into the bathroom and leant against the door as soon as it had fallen shut behind him.

‘You can do this. You can do this. Just don’t think about it too much.’

‘How the fuck can I not think about it. Otabek sits in the fucking living room!’

‘Breathe,’ he thought. ‘Just breathe.’

Following his own thoughts, Yuri took a few deep breaths and noticed how his body actually calmed down. If only Yuuri hadn’t insistent on teaching him how to properly use his breath as a method to self-centre him in extreme situations, the Russian wouldn’t even hate this technique so much. Keeping this rhythm to occupy his thoughts with counting, he stepped into the shower.

The warm water was a blessing on his tense, freezing muscles. Yet although he would have loved to savour this moment a little longer, Yuri knew he couldn’t evade the inevitable. So he got out, dried his body, put on his sweat pants and an oversized hoody and left the bathroom with another deep breath.

“So this is your apartment?” Otabek said, surprise and appreciation in his voice as Yuri brought water to boil in the open kitchen that bordered on the living room.

“Hell, no,” Yuri answered, using his towel to rub the last drops of water out of his hair, “it belongs to the stupid man and his pig. Wanted to keep it after moving. To stay during business travels, for friends or lovey-dovey getaways.” He made chocking noises. “Or for me to stay during the training camp.”

“Oh yeah. I remember reading that they moved to Japan a while ago. You also changed your home rink to Hasetsu, didn’t you? How come if I may ask?”

May he? Yuri’s throat tightened and he clenched fists. He couldn’t tell Otabek the truth. He just couldn’t. He was too afraid of his reaction. He was too embarrassed. What would Otabek think of him if he knew? Yuri didn’t want to find out. It was better if Otabek didn’t knew. That way, his image of Yuri would remain the same as it had been when he had been 18 – young, naïve and stupid.

“The pig’s parents got older and they weren’t able to keep up working so much at the onsen anymore. The bald man, too. They started coaching me alongside Yakov and fully took over when he retired. It was about a year or two afterwards that they wanted to move to Japan to support Yuuri’s family and they dragged me along.”

This wasn’t a lie. At least not completely. Yuri wasn’t able to lie to Otabek. He had never been able to. His heart wouldn’t take it and Otabek had learned to read the tiniest change of his expression so well, he had always noticed when Yuri was lying. While everybody was fooled easily, Otabek had never fallen for his façade. And even if he hadn’t seen Yuri’s face in years, the skater didn’t want to take any risks.

Victor and Yuuri had thought about moving to Japan for a few years. Even before retiring from competing. It had been a loose thought, an idea that they wanted to follow later in life. Then they had started coaching Yuri and had decided to postpone their dream. Even when Yuuri’s parents had mentioned retiring from the main work of the onsen for their first time, they had decided to stay in Russia as long as Mari managed to run the Yu-Topia on her own. There had been no pressure on them to reconsider their plans.

Until the… ‘incident’ had happened. Within just a few weeks they had packed up their things. Yuuri had returned first, searching for a new home while Victor had stayed until Yuri had been ready to travel. An ice cold shower rolled over Yuri’s back when he remembered how they had headed straight for the airport after he had left the hospital. The memories of how he had sat in the car, watching the city that had become his home pass by behind the window with an emptiness in his heart that he had never felt before were still so vivid.

“Well, It’s very nice of him to keep his old apartment to let you stay there,” Otabek rose him from his memories.

Yuri sighed, trying not to let Otabek notice what kind of things had been on his mind. He sat down on the other end of the sofa after placing their steaming cups on the small table in front of it and leaned his head against the headrest.

“Yes, yes. It is.”

“But you’ll never tell him?”

“Hell no!”

Otabek laughed deeply and the cold sensation in Yuri’s spine was washed away by its warmth. He could feel the echo of the vibration of Otabek’s chest in his own. Sensing it right below his head, hearing it with his ears so close had always given him so much comfort.

“And how’s living with them? As bad as you always imagined it would be?” the Kazakh asked when he caught his breath again.

“Well, it’s not as bad. But I guess only because I don’t live with them completely. They bought a house close to the beach – halfway between Yu-Topia and the rink if you remember Hasetsu a little bit. It had a granny flat in the upper floor. I have my own bathroom and kitchen and I can enter it without having to step into their actual apartment – luckily. I don’t want to hear or see anything more than I already do.”

“It’s not really that bad, isn’t it.”

“You have no idea!” Yuri exclaimed. “They have this disgusting playlist they play every time when they do things I really don’t want to imagine.”

“Disgusting as in?”

“It contains all obnoxious love songs that were ever recorded. Every stupid classic you can imagine. And in a fucking volume…! I mean it’s still better than hearing them…” He choked again. “I can’t even say it. Whenever the first second is played, I leave the house and don’t come back until 3 am.”

At first, Otabek looked at him with raised eyebrows, but then he fell into another laugh.

“Like with ‘I will always love you’ and ‘I Swear’?” he asked.

“And ‘My heart will go on’ and ‘The power of love’ and so on,” Yuri tried to sound disgusted but Otabek’s laugh was contagious.

“And since it’s off season you ran away to St. Petersburg to escape their happy relationship?”

‘It was St. Petersburg I ran away from,’ Yuri thought before answering.

“Kinda. I’m visiting Lilia’s academy during the first months after the season ends to work on my posture and stuff. Well, it’s officially not Lilia’s camp anymore. She still owns the school, but she has other teachers working for her, the old hag. She only shows up from time to time to criticise everyone. There’s not one day when she comes that there’s no one crying.”

It was strange for Yuri to talk that much, yet Otabek made it so easy. He felt like no time had passed, like Otabek knew everything about him so there wasn’t anything he needed to hide, although this wasn’t the truth anymore. Still, Yuri noticed how Otabek radiated the same calmness as he had in the past and somehow, Yuri was able to melt away in this comfort.

“But enough of me. How’s life been to you?”

Much to Yuri’s surprise, Otabek talked a lot about what had happened during the last years. Well, not really a lot. But for Otabek it was exceptional. Nothing detailed, mostly about where he had lived and with whom he had worked together. All things Yuri could have found on the internet for sure. But it was nice hearing them from Otabek himself, especially since he could hear his voice and watch his expression that way.

He also asked Yuri a few more things, about their fellow skaters and if Yuri was still in contact with them – which he wasn’t apart from competitions – yet he told Otabek a few stories about his quarrels with JJ which made the Kazakh smile.

Yuri didn’t know quite how, yet underneath these superficial questions, he sensed that Otabek would like to ask more personal, intimate things. Yuri felt that urge himself, more than he’d like to admit. But both of them seemed too aware that it was highly inappropriate since they were practically talking to a stranger. What a weird feeling.

They continued to talk like that until the sun set and Yuri’s stomach began to make himself noticeable.

“Oh lord, I totally forgot to eat,” he moaned.

“Does that still happen often?” Otabek asked and Yuri’s heart nearly exploded when he recognised that certain type of concern that the Kazakh had always kept in his undertone.

“Not that much. That old annoying couple I’m living with makes sure I eat enough, even when I’m so tired I nearly fall into the plate.”

A smile lifted the corners of Otabek’s lips, but he still didn’t seem convinced. And Yuri couldn’t even be mad about it. He would be concerned, too, if Otabek fainted during practise and hurt his head just because he had forgotten to eat for a few days.

“I’m glad they take good care of you.”

He got up and walked towards the hallway.

“Don’t you want to stay for dinner?” Yuri asked, blindly following the wish to make Otabek stay a little longer.

The Kazakh sighed. “I’d love to, but my flight is at 6 am and I need to be at the airport in time. I still have to pack my things, though.”

“And then you stayed this long? If you have said something, you could have left much earlier. You won’t get any sleep that way.”

“It’s fine. I can sleep on the plane. I wouldn’t have missed this chance for the world.”

A deep red blush heated Yuri’s cheeks. That answer couldn’t have met him more unprepared. How could Otabek say such things without being embarrassed to death? Yuri, for sure, couldn’t.

“I don’t want you to keep from dinner any longer, so… Thank you for this afternoon. I really enjoyed it.”

“Me, too,” Yuri admitted.

If Otabek was honest with him, he should be, too.

He watched as the Kazakh got dressed until they stood in front of each other awkwardly.

“Well, bye then.”

“Bye.”

Yuri could read on Otabek’s face that he considered hugging Yuri for a moment before he decided against that. Of course, Yuri was relieved. Although their afternoon together had been a lot more pleasant than expected, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to hug Otabek – or anyone else – ever again without getting a panic attack. Nonetheless, some place right underneath his rips ached at that thought, like it was being torn apart. But why? Yuri had thought his body wasn’t able to feel this kind of pain anymore – or at least he had hoped so. But the last few days had shown him quite obviously that his heart was still pretty much alive after all.

“Yura?” Otabek said after he had already reached for the doorhandle.

“Um?”

“Could we… stay in contact? It doesn’t have to be much. I just…”

He didn’t continue and Yuri wondered what he really wanted to say but then had decided otherwise. Then his eyes wandered to Otabek’s and they were so full of hope that he didn’t even have the heart to consider whether this was a good idea or not.

“I’d like that.”

The way his heart lost its control at the beautiful sparkle that lighted Otabek’s eyes, made Yuri sure he would die any second. The Kazakh smiled softly before the turned to leave again.

He had already opened the door, when suddenly something came to Yuri’s mind. He was convinced Otabek would think of it was strange, but he had to ask or he wouldn’t be able to sleep anymore.

“Otabek?”

“Yeah?”

“Where did you get my number from?”

“Oh! I should have told you. Sorry, I might have startled you.”

“It’s fine. I just wondered.”

For a second, Otabek’s eyes narrowed and he examined Yuri closely, before his expression softened again.

“No need to explain yourself. It was Victor, actually. He send me a text with your new number a few years ago. In case I ever wanted to contact you. At first I thought about deleting it. I had no idea why I should contact you. Especially out of the blue like that after not talking for… what was it? Two years at this point? But I kept it. And now I’m happy I did.”


	4. Vortex

One and a half months had passed since Otabek had visited Yuri and asked him to stay in contact. Yuri had been afraid that it would be weird, that they wouldn’t find anything to talk about. At first it had been odd, Otabek mostly driving the conversations. He had asked Yuri every now and then what he was doing, how practise was going. Sometimes, he had complained about his sisters being nosy or his old friends from high-school pushing him to meet up all the time, although he just wanted to compose music on his own. Other times, he sent Yuri pictures of cats he found on the street and if he could, Yuri would have adopted all of them.

Answering had come easy. A few lines at first, but as they had established something like a routine, Yuri felt like all those years they hadn’t talked had never happened. Soon, he had brought up things on his own. Complaining about Ana and Sophia, complaining about his ballet teacher, complaining about his neighbours – just the normal things. Even right now, he was already typing a message to Otabek, raging about the stupid people at the airport.

How could a few stupid people fuck up his whole day? Yes, he knew he had booked his flight back to Japan quite spontaneously. It hadn’t been his fault though! The old man and his pig had told him out if the blue that they had returned from their vacation and he could start practising immediately. He could have stayed in Russia a bit longer, but since 6 weeks with Sophia and Ana were totally enough for him to fill his tolerance jar of social contact for more than a whole year, he had decided to fly back. First, he had thought to have found a pretty decent and inexpensive flight, but as it ‘appeared’ now, the flight had been overbooked and he had to take a different route.

It had taken all of Yuri’s hard-earned self-control not to yell at the woman at the counter or tear her throat out. But writing a definitely PG-13 rated message to Otabek had been necessary to let off some steam. The only good thing was that he didn’t have to wait too long for the departure. But that was all. There was nothing good about having to fly via London – what an unnecessary, but obviously existing detour. And it definitely sucked to have 28 hours stop there.

What was he about to do in the meantime? Take a shopping spree at the airport? Doing some lame-ass sightseeing? Victor might have had some ‘decent’ influence on him, but he hadn’t removed his brain completely. Well, he would figure this out as soon he was there. But at first he had to survive a 4 hours economy class flight that was completely booked out as well. Packed like sardines, he would have to bear 240 minutes next to a stranger. He could feel his stomach turn just thinking about it.

Yuri sat down in front of his gate and pulled a book out of his bag. He might make good money from skating, but he wouldn’t be able to do it until he was old and grey. Even Yuri knew that much. And modelling or coaching like Victor and Yuuri was totally impossible. Maybe he could be a choreographer. He had learned a lot from Victor and he had even started doing his own programmes, but just in case, it wasn’t bad to have another string to his bow. At least that was what his grandfather had used to say.

When he finished reading the chapter, Yuri checked his phone. Otabek still hadn’t answered him. It seemed that he either had no internet connection or had fully turned off his phone. Maybe he was on an airplane as well. Yuri believed he had mentioned something about his upcoming shows, but he didn’t remember where or when they would take place.

Yuri bit onto his lip as the thought rose up in his head that it would be nice to call Otabek. In the past, they had often talked on the phone whenever one of them had been waiting at the airport. He remembered those nights when he had had to take a late flight and Otabek had made sure, he wouldn’t fall asleep. He thought back to the one time when Yuri had spent about an hour shouting at people on the phone, just to make sure Otabek would be able to stay in a decent room when his connecting flight had been cancelled just when he had been about to board for the first one. Some nights, Yuri had stayed awake for hours, waiting for a message that Otabek had landed safely.

It would be really nice to talk to him now, even if it was just Yuri commenting on the people that annoyed him, like the families with their damn brats that waited a few rows in front of him. Otabek would laugh and then scold him for being rude.

A soft smile appeared on Yuri’s lips as he played with his phone in his hands. It would be stupid to call him, wouldn’t it? He hadn’t texted Yuri back, he surely wouldn’t answer his phone if Yuri called. He was probably busy. And even if he would answer, what was Yuri supposed to tell him why he called? They had just started to put their friendship back together. They weren’t at that point yet, were they?

Yuri wasn’t sure. He wasn’t even sure what to think of all of this. Otabek reaching out to him. Him being so persistent about staying in contact. Yuri didn’t understand his intentions. Why would he want to mend their relationship after all this time? Yuri wasn’t a pleasant person to be with or talk to. He hadn’t changed in that department. This couldn’t be what had encouraged Otabek to approach him or he would have contacted Yuri earlier. They hadn’t been on bad terms at all. They had been friends before they had lost contact. Surely, it would have been a little weird to text Yuri after all that time, but if he wanted to re-establish their friendship, why hadn’t he started sooner?

“Flight 1395B to London. Dear passengers, we will start boarding soon. Please gather at gate 4 and keep your ticket and passport ready.”

Packing the book back into his bag, Yuri got up and slowly walked to the gate. He knew it was stupid to want to be on the plane as quickly as possible, but he wanted to take his seat and make himself as comfortable as it was possible. Squeezing past his seatmate was the last thing he needed right now. Being pressed against a stranger’s body? Hell no, this wasn’t going to happen. When this idiot would come to his seat, Yuri would already have his earphones in, listening to something as loud as possible while staring outside.

Of course, it took ages until he was able to board. Not only that the mass of children that was taking the same flight as him had run to the gate immediately after the call were in front of him, no! Their stupid asses of parents didn’t manage to keep them together, so it had taken way longer for him to get on board. At least his row was still empty. Yuri sat down, turned the volume of his music up and closed it his eyes. It would be nice to get some sleep, he hadn’t gotten much last night. Whenever he was in Moskov, he wasn’t able to rest. Maybe it was the guilt of only coming once a year or whenever he was in Russia. Maybe it was the mix of wanting to be there and waiting to finally leave. He couldn’t tell and he definitely didn’t want to bother his head with such thoughts. It was no good anyways.

A flight attendant stepped up to the front of the plane and took the microphone into her hands. Yuri paused the music and took an earphone out. This wasn’t going to be a welcome speech or the annunciation of the safety instructions. The plane was only half full, despite being completely booked out.

‘Oh no.’ Yuri thought. ‘Please don’t let the previous flight be delayed.’

“Dear passengers, welcome on board. I’m sorry I have to inform you that this connecting flight to London is waiting for the passengers of the previous flight to arrive.”

Yuri growled. Perfect.

“But I’m told they have already landed and are on their way from terminal 1. Thank you very much for your patience.

‘Fuck patience. It could take forever until they are here.’

It wasn’t forever, but 20 minutes until the first passengers arrived. Yuri didn’t even bother to look at them, he just wanted to depart already or he would kill one of the kids two rows in front of him with his bare hands.

He concentrated on watching the plane close by being loaded with luggage and only turned away from the window when he felt somebody placing his bag next to him. A bit furious why they couldn’t be more careful, he stopped the music and looked up at his damn seatmate.

“What the… Otabek?”

The man in front of Yuri looked down and his expression of surprise turned into a smile.

“Yuri? What are you doing here?”

“Taking a flight, you dickhead. What are you doing here?”

“Flying to my next show in London. Didn’t I tell you about it?”

Oh. That was why booking a flight over London had felt so familiar.

“I guess you did. But you don’t expect me to remember all your appointments. It’s enough I have to keep track of my own.”

Otabek laughed and fell into his seat next to Yuri.

“What are the odds, hm?”

“If I didn’t knew better, I’d think you’re stalking me,” Yuri joked despite the sour taste on his tongue.

“If I wanted to stalk you, I would have booked a flight over St. Petersburg. Talking about it, why are you even taking this route. Isn’t this a total detour? Why didn’t you fly from Pulkovo?”

Playing with his hands, Yuri contemplated whether he should tell Otabek the true reason. There wasn’t anything problematic about it. He definitely could and Otabek would surely understand. But did he want this? Did he want all of this to be brought up again? His own failure and pride that caused him to return to Moskov whenever he could manage to pay for it? No. He would tell him. Someday. But not on a damn airplane with zero privacy.

“Victor asked me to take care of some things for him. Buying stuff and such.”

This wasn’t a lie. Yuri just omitted the fact that Victor had asked him after Yuri had told him he would be in Moskov, not that he had ordered him to go there in the first place.

“Well, that’s very nice of you,” Otabek said, his eyebrows lifted in disbelief.

“I know it’s hard to believe, but I can be nice. If I want to. I just never want to. But I’m living with them practically rent-free. I can at least get Victor his favourite chocolate and vodka or a new suit from his personal tailor or whatever he wants.”

“He hasn’t changed anything about his lifestyle, has he?”

“He’s gotten a lot more domestic, but yeah. He never had to care about money and he hasn’t started since.”

Otabek chuckled.

“Dear passengers, welcome on board. We are currently second in line for take-off and are expected to be in the air in approximately seven minutes time. We ask you to fasten your seatbelts. Please make sure all bags are secured under the seat in front of you or in the compartments above. Please turn off all personal electronic devices, including laptops and cell phones until we reach our destined altitude. Smoking is prohibited for the whole duration of the flight. We further ask you to put your table trays as well as your seat into an upright position.”

“Do you still listen?” Yuri asked, ignoring the crew member.

“I sometimes watch the safety videos. They differ between the companies, so it’s fun.”

“If that’s fun for you, who do you even survive your job? Isn’t that way too exciting for your old body.”

“Who are you calling old here!”

“Well, you’re closer to your thirties than to your twenties, so…” Yuri mocked him, only to earn himself a nudge into his ribs.

“If you keep being a brat, I’ll bribe one of those lovely children in the first rows to switch seats with me.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Would I?”

Yuri gave him a look that would have murdered other people and turned towards the window, pouting.

“Naw, did I make the small kitten mad?” Otabek chuckled.

“Oh go fuck yourself,” Yuri snarled, “And who are you calling small. I’m nearly as tall as you. I would be ever taller than you now if you didn’t have that damn growth spurt. I still don’t know how this was even possible.”

“Well, the physicians were surprised themselves. But it seems like I was a late bloomer.”

“That’s hard to imagine.”

“Oh don’t be angry, kitten, your height suits you.”

Yuri only growled at him as an answer, trying to overshadow the loud hammering of his heart. No one besides Otabek had ever called him kitten. Well, maybe others had, but they hadn’t survived it. Yet coming from the Kazakh, it felt totally different. Not annoying or mocking. Maybe a little mocking, but also gentle and loving.

The plane rolled onto the manoeuvring area to the runway. It paused for a second before it started to roll faster and faster. A child started crying and Yuri rolled his eyes when they finally took off.

“You wanna sleep?” Otabek asked.

Yuri had planned on sleeping, but he felt like it was foolish not to use the time had with Otabek when fortune had granted him that much. He opened his mouth to tell Otabek that he was fine and that they could keep talking when a yawn escaped his lips.

“Oh dear. You really need it. It’s okay, I can work.”

“No, I’m finawwwn.”

“Yeah, totally,” Otabek smirked as he got up from his seat an retrieved his laptop and a pair of large headphones from his bag in the upper compartment.

“What are you working on?” Yuri asked when Otabek opened his laptop.

“Just some new songs. I already recorded the parts I wanted to do with live instruments. The rest is just computer work. I also made some sketches for a co-op with a smaller band. I saw them live once and they are really good. You want to hear?”

“Um sure,” Yuri answered. He really wanted to hear Otabek’s latest songs, but he wasn’t sure how to express his curiosity.

“Give me your headphones so we can listen together.”

Sometimes throughout the flight, Yuri must have fallen asleep on Otabek’s shoulder, because when he opened his eyes after what had only felt like a long blink, they had already started the landing process.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Otabek smiled at him as Yuri straightened his back and loosened the muscles in his neck.

The bones in his fingers cracked when he stretched his arms and hands. He hoped Otabek wouldn’t address that Yuri had shamelessly used him as a pillow. A very comfortable pillow, but nonetheless a very inappropriate one. They had just started talking again. Yuri had nearly freaked out when Otabek had tried to hug him. It was way too early to initiate that much intimacy – even unconsciously. Yuri wondered how he had been able to sleep so soundly with that much of body contact. Usually he couldn’t even sleep when there was someone in the same room as him. Falling asleep onto Otabek…

‘Told you he’ll never be ‘just Otabek.’

‘No,’ Yuri thought resignedly, ‘He never was and will never be.’

“When did I fall asleep?”

“’Bout 20 minutes after we started. Maybe three or four songs in. I’d be worried it was my music boring you to death if I didn’t know how tired to were.”

“No, not at all. I liked everything I heard. Especially the second one. The drop right before the distorted guitar solo was dope.”

“Thank you.”

“We will have at least 15 minutes more. You want to show me what I missed?”

Otabek nodded and searched for a new track. Taking a deep breath, Yuri soaked every single note, every beat of Otabek’s composition in like it was the air he needed to live. He had already loved Otabek’s style and ideas even when he had just been playing around on the side. But he had improved so much since then. Still, there were parts that screamed Otabek to him. Little notes, some sequences that had that certain style.

They listened together with Yuri commenting every now and then which parts he liked and where he thought something was missing until they had to put the laptop away. Even on their way out of the plane and through the terminal they kept talking about Otabek’s music.

“Where’s your next gate? I’ll take you there,” the Kazakh offered.

“No idea,” Yuri said and stepped through the exit that would lead them to the room where they could pick up their luggage.

“Huh? Aren’t you flying to Tokyo?”

“I do, but my flight sometime in the afternoon.”

“Tomorrow afternoon?” Otabek asked in surprise.

“Yup. I’m lucky to have a 28 hour stay. Well, only 26 hours after the delay, but still…”

“And where will you be staying?”

“No idea. I don’t want to do sightseeing or stupid stuff. It would be the easiest if I just stay at the airport or find a cheap hotel close by.”

“But didn’t you think those hotels are disgusting?”

“They totally are, but I’m not going to spent money for just one night.”

The Kazakh furrowed his brows, obviously contemplating about something.

“Hey, um… I don’t know it that isn’t totally out of the place, but… I mean, you don’t have to. Just if you’re comfortable with,” He fidgeted around before he sighed and closed his eyes. “I’ll be staying in London for a few days, so I booked myself a small flat. It has a proper bedroom and a sofa if I remember correctly. You could spent the night there with me if you want to.”


	5. Spineless

The atmosphere was a little tense when Yuri sat in the taxi on the way to Otabek's temporary apartment. It wasn't all uncomfortable. The Kazakh perhaps wouldn't even notice. Maybe it wasn't the atmosphere but Yuri who was tense. Otabek's offer to stay the night with him instead of a cheap airport motel had been unexpected. Of course it was convenient, but was it a good idea? Yuri could hardly sleep in any hotel room with his door locked twice. How would it be when there was another person right next door?

Otabek wasn’t even the issue here. It was his brain, the nightmares that haunted him every other night. Yuri hadn’t sleep well in…

How long was it? He didn’t even remember when had been the last time he had rested deeply. The most silent sound woke him up. He had tried sleeping with earplugs, but this had made everything worse. Not seeing anything in the dark while not being able to hear at the same time had been too much on his nerves.

“You okay?” Otabek asked.

“Just tired.”

“If you prefer to stay in a hotel, I won’t be mad. Actually, I’d understand.”

“That’s not it,” Yuri tried to explain as he massaged his forehead, “I…”

He hesitated. Should he really go on? Should he burden Otabek even though he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it? On the other hand, he would find out most likely anyways.

“I have troubles sleeping. Had for a while now. I’m not used to people sleeping close by and I really don’t want to wake you up.”

Yuri couldn’t see Otabek’s expression in the dark and he was relieved that Otabek wouldn’t be able to see his as well. He didn’t want him to try reading something out of Yuri’s face. Because he would. He would read Yuri like an open book and uncover all those chapters he had tried to close forever. Maybe someday, Yuri would be able to let Otabek reach him so deeply again that he might uncover some of them. But for now he’d rather remain sealed.

“For how long?” Otabek asked, the sincere concern in his voice not even hidden a bit.

“A year? Maybe two. Could be three though.”

“And you didn’t do anything about it?”

“What would you expect me to do? I tried sleeping pills once, but Victor wasn’t happy when he found out.”

Again another small understatement. Victor had been furious. Understandable since Yuri had not only tried them once. Not enough to make something bad happen. Not at all. But enough to make him sleep through a whole day. In Yuri’s defence, he hadn’t slept in a week prior, so he had really needed a dreamless rest. Victor had been understanding to some point, more angry about Yuri not telling him about intending to take any medication than him actually using them.

“Have you thought about talking to someone?”

“What good would that do?”

Not that Victor and Yuuri hadn’t tried to get him talk to a therapist. Several times. But Yuri already knew he was a mess. A failure. Weak. He didn’t need the ultimate proof.

“You could find out the origin.”

Yuri turned his face to the window, watching the lights flashing by. Every now and then, he could make out the strings of rain that pattered onto the streets. It had gotten dark pretty quickly after they had had to wait for their luggage for ages and then stand in line for immigration for hours.

“So you know what causes your problems.”

Yuri didn’t answer again. What should he say? Otabek was right. He knew just too well what kept him awake most nights. But he wouldn’t start discussing those things in a cab with a stranger listening in on them. They probably didn’t understand Russian, yet just their pure existence was enough to make Yuri uneasy.

A deep sigh left Otabek’s lips, but he didn’t press any further. Instead, he followed Yuri’s example and turned his gaze outside. The skater could see his reflection in the window on his side. Otabek’s gaze seemed unfocused, like he looked through the glass and the world behind it. His jaw was tightened. He probably clenched his teeth together, releasing the tension inside him in a hardly visible way. Like he always did. Yuri knew that. He also recognized this expression. Multiple emotions hid behind this one grimace. It was partly anger, partly disappointment. But the greatest part was pain.

Of course. Otabek was hurt. Yuri would be, too, if his friend didn’t want to tell him about his problems. If there was something Otabek would hide from him that obviously, Yuri would be mad. He’d think that Otabek didn’t trust him enough. That he didn’t believe that Yuri actually would want to be burdened by his problems, just to take some weight off Otabek’s shoulders. He would be disappointed that he had read more into this relationship than the Kazakh. He would be hurt from being shown right in the face that they weren’t on that level anymore and would never be again. And he knew that Otabek was hurt just in that way.

Yuri wished there was something he could do about that. Something that would ease Otabek’s pain. Close the wounds Yuri’s words had cut into his flesh. He would do everything. Everything, but tell him about his nightmares. Because every word of truth spilled by his lips would cut his throat like sharp pieces of a broken mirror even before they would reach his tongue. And even if they did, they would tare open his mouth, blood dripping from his lips, his words getting lost in the waves of blood coming forth. Yuri didn’t want Otabek to be hurt, he really didn’t. But he was also afraid of being hurt. Again.

In silence, they rode through the night until the taxi stopped in front of a small apartment complex. It didn’t look too modern, but it wasn’t the oldest in the street by far. Otabek paid the driver as Yuri got their suitcases out of the boot. They also remained quiet when Otabek unlocked the door with a code until they entered the apartment on the seconds floor and turned on the light.

“It looks pretty nice, actually,” Yuri mumbled, feeling like he had to break the silence, because Otabek wouldn’t.

“It will definitely be a lot better than staying in a hotel room for a week.”

Otabek hated hotels. He always had. He hated feeling like a guest, like it wasn’t his own home. He hated the lack of privacy, the force to show himself to other people to eat. He hated that people would touch his clothes, the bed he slept in. The bed multiple people had slept in before him. The other people weren’t the exact problem. It was more the sensation of being not at home, to be a visitor but never a part of the whole that Otabek had disliked since Yuri could remember. Even if a short-term rented apartment was the optimal solution, Yuri fully understood that it gave Otabek the privacy and comfort he needed to rest.

“So there’s this couch and we have one bed,” Otabek said after inspecting all the rooms. “I suggest you take the bed and I’ll sleep here.”

“This is your apartment. Well, at least for the next few days. I’m your guest. I’m taking the couch.”

“No, you won’t.”

Yuri already opened his mouth to disagree, but Otabek stopped him.

“You have a 12 hours flight in front of you. I’ll have the opportunity to sleep on a proper bed from the moment you get up until I have to leave for my show tomorrow night. I want you to rest comfortably while you still can.”

His words were firm, not allowing any backtalk.

On one hand, Yuri should feel annoyed at being talked over like that. On the other hand, he was slightly embarrassed which showed in the heat he felt in his cheeks. Did Otabek really care for him that much that he’d take the risk of incredible back pain in the morning? Why did he always have to be so damn perfect?

“Well… Good night then,” Yuri said awkwardly as he held onto the doorhandle to the bedroom.

“Good night,” Otabek returned in that warm, deep voice that made Yuri melt.

Before his legs even dared to think about giving in, he hid behind the closed door. Yuri placed his trunks on one side of the bed and let himself fall onto the comforter. Staring at the white ceiling, Yuri tried to free his head from any thoughts. He should probably sleep, to get his back the rest Otabek had talked of and that he wouldn’t get for the next 24 hours. Yet there were so many things on his mind that Yuri doubted they would let him sleep any time soon.

There were the usual things. Worries or plans about his skating career and what he’d do once he retired. Some annoying line of music that was stuck in his head for who knew how long and that kept showing up randomly. There were mental notes of things he had to do, or buy or take care of.

And then there was Otabek. The Otabek he had been madly in love with in his youth. The Otabek who had thought him what real friendship felt like. The Otabek who had shown him that it was not only okay to have any emotions, but also how to keep them at bay. The one and only person he had wanted to talk to everyday and whom he had missed if there was even a single day of not texting at least once.

It was nice to have him in his life again, Yuri had to admit. It was comfortable to have someone to talk to. Someone who always understood. Someone to listen to every single rant of him. It somehow took the weight of the world off his shoulders. It allowed him to breathe freely.

Yet what did he expect out of this relationship? What good was it? Was it even good? They both had changed, not even knowing the true extent as of now. It wouldn’t be like in the past. It couldn’t, because the world had cruelly kept on turning. What if Otabek realised that? What if he walked out of the fog of the past and saw how much of a mess Yuri was and how demanding he had become. Yuri had always been a handful. There was no need to sugar-coat it. But Yuri had lost his strength and hid the rest of his fragile self behind walls and walls of adamant steel and stone. Sooner or later, Otabek would realise how tedious it would be to break one down, much less all of them – if that was even possible.

Yuri took one of the pillows and pressed it onto his face. It was hopeless. He wouldn’t come to a conclusion. Not now and not any time soon. There was nothing he could do about that. And even if there was, 10pm was surely not the right time. He should go to sleep, let his unconsciousness take over and pray for a dreamless night.

After a few more minutes of staring into nothing, Yuri got up again, threw the comforter to the floor, followed promptly by his clothes except for his boxer briefs. Usually, he slept like that or completely naked. Clothes felt too suffocating and heavy on his body, but since this wasn’t his home and due to Otabek sleeping right next door, Yuri pulled an old, oversized shirt out of his suitcase and threw it over. Then, he threw himself onto the bed, opening the internet to find a relaxing video to fall asleep to. Maybe this was a bad and unhealthy habit. But it was a lot more healthy than leaving himself alone with his thoughts.

_Yuri ran. Quicky. His chest was aching, desperate for air. For a break. But Yuri wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. He needed to run. Get away from where he had come from. There was nothing to run to. Nothing to run away from, because all around him was just darkness. There wasn’t even a floor underneath his feet. Everything was dark and yet Yuri ran. He didn’t feel like he was moving. Nothing changed around him. Still, he was running faster and faster, trying to get away from…_

_What from?_

_Suddenly, water began to drip onto the floor, filling the non-existent ground under Yuri’s feet. Water splashed as he continued to hurry away from whatever was hunting him. His pants began to soak up the liquid, the cold around Yuri nagging on the wet fabric._

_When had it become so cold? Yuri hadn’t noticed. It was freezing, his breath visible as he panted. But there was something colder than the air around him. It was a breeze, a breath in his neck. It ruffled through his hair, caressed his cheeks and froze any sensation that Yuri had left. But it wasn’t the invisible feeling alone. There was something solid, pressing firmly against the skin underneath his hair._

_“You deserve this,” echoed from the wall._

_“It’s your own fault.”_

_“You’re disgusting.”_

_Yuri ran faster and faster. He wanted to leave this place, get away from the voices, but they followed him. Now, they stayed with Yuri as he stayed in one place, going nowhere._

_“If it wouldn’t be much trouble, you’d deserve to die right here and now.”_

_“Breaking you like this is even gracious of us.”_

_“You should be thankful that we’re treating you like this.”_

_“You could only be more desperate if you beg.”_

_“I hope you rot here.”_

Grasping for air, Yuri opened his eyes. His heart crashed his ribs, pounding so hard Yuri could feel it in his throat. His hands were shaking, his mind still occupied by his nightmare.

‘Please, let me forget about this. Please, erase this dream,’ he thought.

Only slowly, the skater was able to return to the presence. He looked up at the ceiling and his pulse immediately sped up again.

Where was he? This wasn’t his room. This neither his nor Victor’s old apartment. How the hell did he get here? His chest rose and fell quickly, his throat tight and unwilling to let any air in.

Fuck, he needed to breathe. Right now!

Yuri jumped out of the bed and hurried towards the window. He ripped it open, not caring about the loud bang it caused when the frame hid the wall. Supporting his weight on the windowsill, Yuri protruded his head into the cold night air.

This was good. This felt right. Yuri closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He noticed how his heart calmed down, how his mind didn’t feel like exploding anymore. His legs and hands stopped shacking the longer he concentrated on just breathing.

Only when he was sure that he was calm enough, Yuri turned his head towards the room again. Thanks to the light of the nearly full moon he was able to make out his trunks in the dark.

Oh, now he remembered. He had followed Otabek’s invitation to sleep in his apartment until his flight to Tokyo would take off.

‘That much of getting more sleep that way,’ he reckoned.

Maybe after a few more minutes, he would be ready to get into bed again. He lifted himself up and sat down on the sill, watching the night sky. It had stopped raining and the clouds had retreated enough to spot some faint stars. They weren’t as beautiful as in Hasetsu, yet they gave Yuri at least some comfort.

A silent knock on his door made Yuri jump up.

“Yuri?” Otabek whispered. “Are you okay?”

The Russian wasn’t sure what to say. No, he wasn’t. But was this minor nightmare enough to keep Otabek from sleeping?

“I’m fine. You can go back to bed,” he answered just as quietly.

“May I come in for a second?”

For a moment, Yuri hesitated, but then he mumbled, “Alright.”

As cautious as possible, Otabek opened the door. He wore semi-tight jogging pants and an oversized band shirt. His hair looked like he had walked through a storm.

Slowly, he approached Yuri, his eyes scanning over his whole body. Yuri could feel his gaze examining his soul, searching for answers deep inside him instead of believing what the surface said.

“Are you sure you are okay?” he asked.

Yuri didn’t answer and he didn’t need to. Otabek already knew.

“Is there something I can do for you?”

His gaze turned towards the ground, Yuri shook his head.

Otabek took a step forward, standing right in front of Yuri. The Russian could see the moonlight glistening in his eyes, lighting the deep sadness and concern inside it. Otabek lifted up his hand as if he wanted to cup Yuri’s cheek in it like he had done so often in the past. But right before the tips of his fingers did even get the chance to touch Yuri’s skin, he clenched his hand into a fist and withdrew it. Yuri knew it was stupid, but just like Otabek who had instinctively tried to console him, Yuri’s soul was desperate for his comfort. Before he could even think, his own hand had caught Otabek. Cautiously, he opened the clenched fists and brought the hand up to his face only to rub his head against it. Otabek’s hand was warm and soft and Yuri allowed the peace that Otabek radiated run into his body.

The Kazakh gave Yuri all the time in the world to recharge his nerves. Patiently, he waited and caressed Yuri’s cheek with his thumb until Yuri sat up straight.

“You want me to go?” He asked when Yuri hadn’t said or done anything besides looking at Otabek like he couldn’t believe what was happening.

And he really couldn’t. Otabek’s present right in front of him felt so unreal. Like it was just another dream. A better one. One that was able to erase all the pain in his heart.

Did he want Otabek to go? No! He wanted him to stay. Even if this was a dream which it definitely had to, Yuri wished to remain just a little longer in this bubble filled with blue moonlight and the overwhelming feeling of relaxation.

Slowly, he shook his head.

“May I sit down?” Otabek asked, his head pointing to the other side of the long window sill.

Yuri nodded and pulled his legs in a little more to give Otabek space.

Both of their gazes were drawn outside. They didn’t talk. Sitting in the silence with Otabek watching the beautiful night sky clearing up more and more was enough for Yuri. He didn’t want anything more, because this was already more than he would have believed to ever experience again. He wasn’t happy. He couldn’t be after such a dream that might have left his mind, but was still engraved in his guts. He probably would never be happy again. But that was fine. Yuri had accepted that. Yet here, next to Otabek he was calm. For the first time in a while, his mind was nearly at peace. He was as relaxed as he could be. He was okay.


	6. Beyond Stone

When Yuri woke up the next morning, he first noticed how relaxed he was. Unlike usual, his body didn’t scream for a shower to be woken up, no faint memories of his nightmares occupied his mind. He opened his eyes and stared at the white ceiling. What had happened that he had slept so well? Did he take sleeping pills despite Victor’s advice? Did he try weed like Sofia had suggested? No, that wasn’t the case. This wasn’t just superficial calmness. This was something deep, something so absorbed by his body that it soothed every single muscle, every tense cell inside him.

Yuri closed his eyes and instantly, memories of the last night flashed up. He had woken up from a nightmare and Otabek had caught him as he had been hanging halfway out of the window, desperate for air. How had Otabek known that something had been wrong with Yuri? Had he heard him? Yuri might have opened the windows with some force, but it surely hadn’t been enough to wake someone up who slept next door.

Anyhow, Otabek had sat down with him. He had said nothing, hadn’t asked anything, but had been there for Yuri when he hadn’t even known that he needed him. Yuri didn’t quite remember how long they had watched the stars together in silence, but at some point he had nearly fallen asleep and if Otabek hadn’t caught him in time, Yuri would have hit his head on the opened window.

As the gentleman who Otabek was, he had made sure that Yuri returned to his bed safely. He must have whispered something, but Yuri didn’t remember any words, just the deep vibration, lulling him in even more. One last time, Otabek had caressed his cheek and Yuri had fallen asleep before he could even hear him leave.

Wait? One last time? Oh good grace! As soon as Yuri remembered he rolled around and hid his burning face in the pillows. How damn stupid could he be? He had not only allowed Otabek to touch him so intimately, he had also encouraged it.

‘Fuck’, Yuri growled into the fabric.

He hadn’t thought about it, totally acting on instinct. An instinct that had been formed years ago when they had been strangely close for ‘just friends’. But Yuri had never asked questions, happy to get as much as he could. So he had taken Otabek’s hand and… He couldn’t think about it without dying. It was so embarrassing. And worst of all, he had also enjoyed it. A lot even, although he knew very well he shouldn’t. Not only for the obvious reason that he had sworn to himself that he would never allow a person to touch him in that way again, but also because he and Otabek would start reading things into this gesture – very different things.

Yuri’s heart, that seemed to have conveniently forgotten the past years, would remind him every single second of the day how much he had liked Otabek in the past, while Otabek… Well, Yuri had no idea what Otabek would be thinking, but definitely not the same thing as Yuri. He had never expressed any interest in him or in people in general.

If he could, Yuri would hide underneath the blanket all day, but since this was Otabek’s rental apartment and he had to catch a flight later that day, it was inevitable to meet him. Grumbling into the pillow, Yuri dragged himself out of the bed and right to the bathroom without paying attention to anything else. The cold shower was able to cool his heated cheeks, but sadly did not wash away his embarrassment.

He just wanted to forget about it, how his body had totally moved on its own last night, yet Otabek’s hand on his cheek had felt way too warm and way too soft to be forgotten. It had been a long time since someone had touched Yuri like this, but he was sure it hadn’t felt half has good as Otabek’s touch.

Which was a problem. A huge one. Yuri wasn’t stupid. He noticed how he was on the best way to fall in love with his friend all over again which wouldn’t be the issue per se. Yuri might be able to handle such feelings again, although it would surely evoke memories that he’d rather kept locked away. But with falling in love other things came. Like wanting to be with the other person. Wanting to talk to them. Wanting to spend time together. To touch. To kiss. And Yuri couldn’t do any of this. Even IF the slightest chance existed that the Kazakh liked him the same way, Yuri wouldn’t be able to do couple like things. No matter how much he might want, he couldn’t. Not again. Not after…

But that wouldn’t happen anyways. Otabek didn’t like him that way and this was fine. Especially since Yuri would never act on his crush that he didn’t even have so far. He just had to be careful not to let it rise up to the surface. Maybe it wasn’t bad that the skating season would start in a few months. Yuri would be occupied then and between practising and sleeping he would only have time for a few short texts. Despite enjoying his daily chats with Otabek, this was for the best. Without any meaningful conversations there was no room to fall in love.

Equipped with this great plan, Yuri got out of the shower, got dressed and put his hair into a high pony tail so it wouldn’t annoy him. Then, he packed all the things he had taken out of his suitcase back inside so he wouldn’t forget anything later and entered the small living room.

When he came in, Otabek looked up from his phone and smiled.

‘Fuck,’ Yuri thought. ‘That’s another good things about texting. I won’t have to see his stupid smile.’

“Good morning.”

“Mornin’.”

“I got us something for breakfast. You want coffee, too? Or tea?”

“Coffee, please.”

Otabek poured the steaming hot liquid into a cup and Yuri took his seat opposite of the Kazakh.

“You know you didn’t have to do this,” Yuri said looking at the toast, scrambled egg and yoghurt with fruit on the table.

“I know. But I wanted to.”

“But you’re not even the type to eat much for breakfast.”

“Who says I didn’t change?”

Yuri looked up to him, but then Otabek grinned.

“No, you’re right. I’m still not the breakfast type. But it’s technically more brunch than breakfast considering the time and I wanted to treat you to something nice before your flight. I’m pretty sure you didn’t change either and you still hate the food they serve you on the plane.”

Swallowing hard, Yuri looked down onto his plate, not sure what to say. Maybe it would be a lot harder not to fall for Otabek than he had expected.

“Thank you,” he mumbled as he took his cup of coffee and took a huge sip.

The warm, bitter taste ran down Yuri’s throat and he could have moaned. That was just what he needed. He took another one and helped himself to a slice of toast that he loaded with scrambled egg. Otabek rose his eyebrow, but didn’t comment on it.

For a while they ate in silence and Yuri wasn’t sure if it was comfortable or not. It kind of was, but he still felt like the issue of last night wafted in the room unspoken.

“How did you sleep?” Otabek suddenly asked and Yuri nearly chocked on his toast at how uninvolved that question sounded.

As if he hadn’t been there last night. Like it had been just a dream. But Yuri was sure it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. But then it would mean that Otabek had decided wilfully that he wouldn’t address last night’s issue.

Yuri didn’t know if he should be shocked or touched. He was partly shocked, because Otabek was able to read him just so well that Yuri didn’t even have to say that he’d rather not talk about it. It was the same as all the other things that Otabek seemed to remember about him or made completely right without even trying.

Another part of him, however, was so, so touched by his thoughtfulness. He surely was curious about Yuri’s constant nightmares. Who wouldn’t be? He had already expressed his concern in the cab the day before, but he didn’t ask. Not about this topic nor about all the other things he surely knew Yuri was hiding from him, but he didn’t point those out either. And the knowledge of Otabek simply accepting that he was an endless pit of secrets and fears and memories without trying to explore it forcefully, waiting for Yuri to lift the curtains himself, was nearly making the Russian cry and his heart pound.

“Good. And you?”

“As good as the couch let me.”

“I told you, you should have…”

“No.” Otabek said firmly, but with a smile. “Anyways, did you look up when you’re flight’s departing?”

“Around two.”

“So you should be at the airport half past noon the latest. That’s not that long anymore.”

“Guess so.”

“Have you packed everything?”

“Didn’t have much to unpack.”

“Okay, so I’ll call us a cab after breakfast.”

“Us?”

“Yeah. I thought I’d accompany you.”

“Why?”

“Well, I assumed it wouldn’t be as boring for you that way. But I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

It was interesting for Yuri to notice how quickly Otabek backed down as soon as he believed he was overstepping his boundaries. It had been the same yesterday, when he had invited Yuri to stay with him. Could it be that he was insecure about their relationship as well? But what should he be insecure about? Messing it up? That would be Yuri’s part. And anyways, Otabek had never been the type to be insecure about anything, so Yuri probably read more into it than there actually was.

“No that’s not it. But don’t you have stuff you have to work on? And you’d have to pay the cab twice.”

“I’ll take the train back. It’s cheaper. And don’t worry about my work.”

“Well, if you insistent on coming…”

“Someone has to take care you don’t kill any of the staff.”

“You might not believe it, but I’m very much able to handle my aggression towards useless, incompetent people maturely by now. Thank you.”

“I won’t believe that until I’ve seen it with my very own eyes.”

“I’m a grown-up now, so-“

“You? A grown up? You’ll never grow up. You’ll always stay an angry little kitten, no matter if you look like a tiger now.”

“Go fuck yourself. If I’m a kitten, you’ll be a grizzly soon.”

“Referring to my age with their grey fur? Not very creative.”

“I hate you.”

“But it would be super convenient, because I could pick you up on your neck and carry you around.”

“You… Fucking…,” Yuri growled angrily, got up and walked into the bedroom.

He could hear Otabek laugh over the clattering of the plates and his heart fluttered. This time it wasn’t because of his laugh. Yuri had gotten used to it a little by now. No, it was because he hadn’t realised how much he had missed their small quarrels. It was nice to talk to someone in this way again. Since he moved to Japan, he didn’t really have anyone to fight with.

After checking if he had really packed all his stuff, Yuri shot a message to Yuuri to make sure they would pick him up from Fukuoka airport. His connecting flight wouldn’t take that long, but Yuri had no desire to include an additional train ride to his exceptionally long and useless journey.

“The taxi will be here in half an hour,” Otabek informed him when he joined Yuri in the bedroom, “Is there anything you want to do in the meantime?”

“Is there anything worth doing for half an hour except for taking a nap?”

“And you want to tell people you’re not a cat.”

Yuri grunted and sat down on the bed.

“Well, I don’t know if you play anymore, but I have my S/witch with me and the latest S/mash Bros., so…” the Kazakh offered.

“So you want your ass beaten up? I’m in,” Yuri smirked, getting up from the bed only to throw himself onto the sofa next door.

Yuri hadn’t played videogames in ages, so Otabek was obviously a bit better than him during the first rounds. Yet soon, he got the hang of it and he really gave the Kazakh a hard time. He had totally forgotten how much fun it was to play against Otabek. He swore most of the time which only made Otabek laughed even when he tried to play dirty. But Otabek was still taller than him and a lot broader so it was easy for him to keep Yuri at bay. He was really disappointed when the taxi driver rang at the door to pick them up.

Otabek helped Yuri to put his huge suitcase into trunk even through the Russian had insisted that he was fine on his own. Then they took their seats in the back.

“Are you looking forward to return home?” Otabek asked when they had reached the highway.

“I’m not so happy about that lovey-dovey couple. After their vacation they’ll be even more disgusting than usual. But I’m pretty excited about practising my new programmes. Oh, and Aiko of course. I can’t wait to see her again. She’s the only one I really missed.”

“Aiko?”

“Yeah. She’s the light of my life.”

For the shortest moments, Otabek’s expression darkened, but it returned to normal within the blink of an eye. It had happened so quickly, Yuri was sure he had imagined it.

“Your girlfriend?”

Yuri looked at Otabek like he had lost his mind and broke out into a laugh. “Hell no. She’s way too young for me. I’m not going to make myself guilty to an offense and her parents would skin me alive. Though she never gets tired of declaring that she’s going to marry me once she’s old enough. She’s just the cutest thing.”

“I see.”

“Wait, I can show you a photo of her. Before I came to Russia we went to an amusement park together. She had a blast there.”

“No, thanks.”

The Russian shrugged his shoulders. Maybe Otabek just didn’t like kids. Yuri hated them, too, but Aiko was something different. She was a joy to be around. Never quarrelling, sleeping when told so. Yuri loved her like he was her natural big brother. Her cute little hugs had healing powers and therefore the only kind of touch that Yuri was able to stand. Until last night that was.

“Anyway,” he tried to change the topic since Otabek didn’t seem to want to hear more about Aiko, “I’m really looking forward to this season. Victor gave me a free hand with my short programme and I’m really happy how it turned out.”

“What are you skating to?”

“It’s called ‘Poem of Sky and Sea’. You probably never heard of it. It’s out of Yuuri’s favourite movie. I never really watched it, but it’s been running so often it was hard to miss the soundtrack. Though it was hard to really hear it over his immense sobbing.”

“And your free skate?”

“Well… That’s the thing. Victor and I have the choreography pretty much down. It’s fitted onto ‘Glass’ by Hania Rani.”

“Never heard of that either.”

“It’s a piano piece. Flowing pretty straightforwardly, driving and it never loses that flow.”

“But you don’t seem happy with it.”

“Not really. I totally like the vibe of it. When I heard it for the first time, I loved the restlessness, that pushing forward kind of feeling. It came easy to create a good choreography for it, but…”

“Good isn’t good enough for you, is it?”

“No,” Yuri admitted, “Halfway through, I realised it lacked something. Something harder, darker. But I searched online for weeks and I didn’t find anything that I liked more. So I guess I’m stuck with it. It’s not bad. And Victor will get the most of the pieces I left him.”

“I’m sure it’ll be outstanding as always.”

“Maybe. But I’m not sure if I can live up to it, because it doesn’t truly feel like me.”

Otabek furrowed his brows as if he was thinking carefully about something. Yuri let his gaze wander outside the window. The weather wasn’t as bad as yesterday, although Yuri really liked the rain. He loved the sound it made and how the drops ran down the large window of his apartment.

“Do you have it on your phone?” Otabek suddenly asked.

“What?”

“That song.”

“Uh?”

“I’d like to hear it.”

Yuri raised his eyebrow, but got his phone and headphones out. He handed Otabek the right part before putting the left into his own ear.

For the first few seconds, Otabek’s expression didn’t change. He just seemed to listen closely. After a while, he closed his eyes and his fingers began to twitch every now and then. They listened to it another time, and a third and a forth until Otabek opened his eyes again.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah I know. I really like it. It just...” he trailed off.

It wasn’t easy to explain what the song was lacking, because Yuri didn’t quite know himself. He liked how his movements rested on the ever-driving line of sounds following sounds following sounds. But deep inside, it just didn’t hit right.

“I understand,” Otabek said in that deep, calm tone that Yuri loved so much and somehow, he totally believed that the Kazakh really understood.

When they arrived at the airport, Otabek accompanied Yuri to the check-in and assured him that it was fine to spend the whole time with him until it was time to get to the gate.

They walked through the shopping stalls, Yuri commenting how outrageous some of those designer bags and clothes looked and how anyone would pay such an amount of money for something a toddler could have designed. Otabek also insisted on buying them both huge iced coffees that they drank while watching annoyed stuff taking care of atrocious, entitled travellers, lovers saying goodbye or older couples trying to find a last-minute welcome gift for their grandchildren.

With Otabek, time passed by so fast, Yuri would have totally missed his flight. But the Kazakh was attentive enough to keep track of it and followed Yuri to the security check where they would have to part.

“So that’s it,” Otabek said and Yuri could hear how down he was.

“Yeah,” Yuri answered and his throat felt incredibly tight.

“It was nice. Even if it was just a coincidence.”

“It was nice, because it was a coincidence,” Yuri answered.

Otabek smiled at that, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m going to miss you. That apartment will feel totally empty without your constant shouting,” he admitted, the sincerity behind his mocks breaking Yuri’s heart.

“Compared to living with Victor and his pig, I’d definitely prefer you. At least, you’re making me breakfast,” he tried to joke, but his laugh was stuck in his dry throat.

How was it possible to be so sad about having to leave after that short amount of time? Yuri felt like his skin was glued to Otabek’s and if he would try to leave him, it would be torn away from his body.

“Well, have a good flight then,” Otabek whispered as he stepped forwards.

Yuri could feel that it was, because he wanted to hug Yuri, but was hesitant about it which was just so sweet and attentive of him again that Yuri didn’t have the heart to let him stay there like this. Carefully, he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around Otabek. The Kazakh reacted immediately, pulling Yuri tight while making sure it wasn’t too tight. If he wanted to, Yuri could have easily escaped him. But he didn’t want to. The first second it had felt a bit awkward. Yet now, it felt… Good. Warm. Comfortable. Nealy safe.

He only let go of Otabek when he felt the Kazakh removing one of his arms. He began to fidget around in the pocket of his leather jacket. Yuri drew back a little to look at him curiously.

“I totally forgot I wanted to give this to you,” he said, holding a small black rectangle in his hand.

“What’s that?”

“An mp3 player”

“You still use those things?”

Otabek shrugged his shoulders. “Comes in handy from time to time.”

Yuri lifted both eyebrows, signalising Otabek that he had no idea what he was supposed to do with it.

“It has a few of my old and a few of my unpublished songs on it. In case you want to listen to something on your flight.”

“That’s…” Yuri had no idea what to say. His heart couldn’t handle how often Otabek had surprised him the last 24 hours. “Thank you.”

Otabek smiled and this time, it was a sincere one.

“But don’t you need it back?” the Russian asked.

“I have tons of them.”

“But how am I going to return it?”

“Give it to me, when we meet again. Goodbye, Yuri.”

With these words he turned around and left a speechless, blushing Yuri behind.


	7. Standing on the Edge

Yuri’s flight to Tokyo was luckily business class. He would have killed one of the other passengers otherwise. Half an hours ago, they had taken off and Yuri had done nothing but staring outside into the bright blue.

With the distorted guitar and the heavy bass in his ear it was easy to let his thoughts fly freely. It was incredible to think that Otabek did all of this on his own. The e- and bass-guitars, the drums and the electro component that some songs had. Most of his music was instrumental and Yuri really appreciated it. Lyrics were such a delicate thing. Just one wrong word could ruin a song more than a weird harmony. Also, it was easier to internalise the music, the melody, the flow if there wasn’t a voice slowing the process. A few songs, however, originated from various collaborations with famous soloists or unknown bands.

Yuri felt a little selfish and ignorant for not even knowing how much of an influential person Otabek was in his field and how large his name had grown. The lack of popular advertising was misleading, but the big names that were written behind the little ‘feat.’ label spoke volumes. Not that Otabek actually needed their popularity to convince people to listen to his stuff. He was a genius on his own.

Getting more and more lost in Otabek’s music, Yuri understood why the Kazakh had decided to switch his profession as much as he hated to admit it. Otabek had been passionate about skating, but this? This was so different from everything Yuri had ever felt before. His friend wasn’t a man of words at least not to anyone besides Yuri. In the past, he had only expressed himself to the public with his performances. He had been able to convey his feelings quite well, although he had never touched deep emotions such as grief or love. Most of his themes had been dominated by strength or courage. His music, however,…

Yuri swallowed hard. Most of the songs didn’t even have lyrics, but goosebumps covered all of Yuri’s arms and neck. A lot of people wouldn’t even like the heavy double bass drum or the rough distortion of the guitars, the deep humming of the bass, but Yuri loved every second of it.

He loved the sound in his ears and the vibrations he imagined to feel in his chest. He melted under the lines of the melody, his heart rejoicing with every twist, with every perfectly placed harmony. They way Otabek played with the keys, how he could change the mood easily just by adding or omitting a chords that had been the chorus before swept Yuri off his feet.

Song after song, Otabek managed to throw the world of Yuri’s soul over. Within just a few minutes, Yuri was caught in the deepest wrath only to switch to feeling like the most powerful in the world. He switched from heart-breaking grief to a broad smile on his face. What sounded like an exhausting roller-coaster was more like a tour through Otabek’s emotions. Emotions that Yuri had once known like nobody else. A lump built in his throat realising, that while he knew nothing about what was going on inside Otabek anymore, the whole world was able to listen to it now.

Yet this wasn’t about him. It was about how fascinating the Kazakh’s music was, how indescribable the emotions that Otabek was making him feel without a single word. Otabek was a genius. He always had been. This was what made him happy. And as Yuri closed his eyes to let his mind completely be swept away, he really regretted that he hadn’t realised that earlier.

It was after the first day of the Rostelecom Cup Otabek and Yuri leaned against the boards of the rink, watching the kids cleaning up the mess of flowers and confetti. They enjoyed the calm after everyone had left already.

It had been an interesting set of short programmes. A lot of surprises, some disappointments. Overall, Yuri was quite happy with the competition. He had placed first of course, Otabek currently in third place. The only one between them was some youngster in his second season from Bulgaria or Croatia or Poland. Yuri didn’t even remember anymore. He was no match for Yuri and Otabek would surely beat him in the free skate with his outstanding performance. This was his friend’s best choreography so far, so Yuri was sure he would be on the podium with him.

“Yuri, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” Otabek said, breaking the silence in a serious voice that Yuri hadn’t heard from him in a while.

“What? Looking for advice? You’re competition, but if you treat me to dinner I might spill a few secrets,” Yuri joked.

“No, that’s not it.”

“Then what is it?”

Otabek straightened his back and turned towards Yuri.

The Russian, too, stood upright. Otabek’s expression was worryingly stern and emotionless.

“Hey, is everything alright?,” Yuri asked highly concerned.

This Otabek gave him chills. He had never seen him like this before.

“There’s something important I have to tell you.”

“Okay?”

“Please tell me you won’t freak out.”

Yuri felt sweat forming on his hands. This was making him really nervous.

“What is it? Do you have a girlfriend? I promise not to insult her too much when I meet her. At least the first time,” he joked, his heart clenching painfully at his own words.

“No.”

“Then stop holding out on me.”

“Okay,” Otabek took a deep breath, “this will be my last competition.”

“Oh, don’t be a drama queen. You might only be in third place, but if you don’t fuck your free skate up, you’ll surely qualify for the finale.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he sighed. “After this Grand Prix finale and the World Championship, I’m going to retire from skating.”

Laughing nearly hysterically, Yuri looked at Otabek, but the Kazakh’s expression made the laugh get stuck in his throat.

“You’re joking, right?”

“No.”

“No, for real. Stop kidding me. This is not funny. There’s no way you’d quit skating.”

“I am.”

“But why?”

“I decided to follow my passion and become a full time DJ. It has brought me a lot of joy and I finally feel like can express myself in a way that I’m comfortable with. During the last off-season I deejayed a lot more and it clicked. I realised that this is what I want to do from now on.”

“No!” Yuri shouted. “You can’t be serious. Why should you abandon a successful skating career for an unstable job like that.”

“I wouldn’t have stayed a skater forever anyways. How many years more would I have left if I stayed. Three. Maye four. Not everyone stays in the game as long as Victor.”

“But that doesn’t mean you have to leave now!”

“It might not. But this is what I want to do. It makes me happy and my manager says that it might be a good point to…”

“Your manager? You already have a manager and you haven’t told me anything about it?”

“I’m telling you now.”

“And you never thought about telling me about your plans beforehand?” Yuri screamed at him. “I haven’t heard anything like that from you during the past year.”

“I know and I’m sorry, but-“

“But what? I’m not good enough of a friend to be told?”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Then what else? Didn’t you trust me? Did you think I wouldn’t care?” Yuri didn’t even try to hide how desperate he was.

He was angry and hurt. Mostly hurt. Why hadn’t Otabek told him earlier? Why hadn’t he discussed the plans for his future with Yuri. The Russian shared everything with his friend. Was he really not important enough to at least hear of such life-changing decisions beforehand?

“I’m sorry. But I was afraid.”

“What of?” Yuri barked.

“That you’d react just like you do now.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do, huh? You tell me you quit skating five months before actually doing so. You’ve planned on leaving me alone for much longer and not once thought about talking to me about it. I thought we were friends. I thought we trusted each other.”

“We are friends,” Otabek tried to calm Yuri down, but it was no use.

“If we were real friends, you wouldn’t leave me alone like this. You knew you were the only person I ever not hated to be around. You’re the only one I could ever talk to. I thought we made a promise to stay in skating together until the end. But as it seems this promise wasn’t as important to you as it was to me.”

“Yura…”

“Oh cut it out with the nicknames. I’m not Yura to you anymore. Actually, I never want to talk to you again. If you really want to quit skating, you can be dead to me already.”

Without another word, Yuri left Otabek alone, brushing away the tears that welled in his eyes. How could he? Why hadn’t he told him before? How could he even think about leaving Yuri? Just when he had finally learned how to deal with his feelings for Otabek, the Kazakh had decided to abandon him. How was Yuri supposed to live without him? How should he keep on going without those nights spend in hotel rooms talking? How should he fall asleep without remembering how Otabek’s warm chest moved slowly underneath his head. Sure, they didn’t met often during the year, but at least they had seen each other sometimes. Apart from the competition, they had visited each other frequently during off-season. And those few times had been enough to get Yuri through the rest of the year.

With Otabek leaving skating, however, their meetings would be reduced to non-competition meetings only. And with his changed schedules, Otabek would surely be busy when Yuri was off and vice versa. Yuri hated to admit it, but he needed his friend around. He needed to know that it would only be a few weeks, two months the most until he could spent a few days with the only person who truly understood him. Even if they did nothing, being with Otabek was more relaxing than a month of vacation.

Finally reaching his hotel room, Yuri slammed the door shut and thew himself onto the bed. How was he supposed to keep on going without his best friend, his source of energy, the first person he had fallen in love with?

Yuri leaned his head against the small window and sighed. It had taken him way too long to realise that all of this hadn’t been about him and that if Otabek was really important to him he should pray for his happiness, even if that meant that this happiness would be achieved without him. When he had finally apologised, he had already lost two precious months that he could have spent with his friend.

After that night that Otabek had told him about his decision, he had ignored every call, every attempt Otabek had made to contact him. He had avoided him the day of the free skate, giving more interviews that usual just to not have to talk to him. Not even during the Grand Prix Gala he had avoided him, simply by not going there. He wouldn’t have managed to not shout at him or break a glass in his hands just looking at the Kazakh.

The next morning, Victor had nonchalantly mentioned that Otabek had left the Gala early.

“He said it was no use to stay if you weren’t there with him. He even missed the dance competition. What a shame,” Victor had said, giving Yuri a look that was unambiguously.

‘Get this right,’ it had screamed.

But Yuri hadn’t.

He had left all of Otabek’s messages unread. He hadn’t wanted to hear any excuses or attempts to explain himself.

Anger and disappointment had turned into more hate, but now combined with the pain of knowing that Yuri was losing the one who meant the world to him. But he had to learn how to live with it. Soon, Otabek would leave the figure skating world – and therefore Yuri – for good and there was nothing he could to about it. It would be better to get used to it now, even if it broke his heart.

Then New Year’s Eve came – about a month after the competition and Yuri had spent the evening with Victor, Yuuri and his family. Japan was way ahead of time, so a few hours into the new year, Yuri had gotten another text from Otabek that had broken his heart.

‘Happy New Year, Yura. I wish you were here now. But you aren’t and I understand why. I’m really sad you want to end our friendship like that. I hoped to spent my last months skating with you. This was how we met and I will be grateful forever that it brought me to you.

To be honest, I’m angry at you for being like that. But I can’t be, because you’ve always been like that. You’re stubborn as hell and so prideful. But those things are the things I like about you, so I can’t really hate you.

Anyways, I just want to tell you that I’m leaving you alone now. I won’t try to text you anymore since you clearly aren’t interested in me or our friendship anymore.

I wish you all the best for the future.’

Yuri hadn’t slept at all that night. He had just cried into his pillow until his eyes were red and dried out.

Still, he had been stubborn and hadn’t replied anything. What had he been supposed to answer anyway? Otabek had put Yuri behind him. And Yuri would surely not come crawling back to him.

Without any word between them, Yuri had completed the European Championship after a fashion. He had come in second. Not the worst place, but Yuri knew that only his thoughts cycling around Otabek had lost him the gold medal. Their distance had worn him out. He hadn’t had any energy left. Not to deal with the press, with his competitors or the pressure of the public. It had been a wonder that he had placed that high in his state.

“Why haven’t you made up yet?” his grandfather had asked when Yuri had paid him a quick visit after the championship.

“It’s too late now. He doesn’t want to hear from me anymore.”

His grandfather had slapped his head from behind.

“It’s never too late to apologize. Otabek’s been your first real friend. I know how important he is to you. You can try to deny that, but you were never able to hide the sparkle in your eyes when you talk about him and how it’s gone since you both fell out. Put your damn pride aside.

I know what you’re thinking. That it’s pathetic to come back to him now. But a sincere apology is never pathetic. Especially if it’s for something you truly regret. So go and talk to him or you’ll lose him forever.”

It was stupid how Yuri had ignored all of Victor’s and Yuuri’s words, but finally listened to his grandfather. Overnight, he had booked the next flight to the States where the Four Continents Championship would be held. Yakov had shouted at him a lot, but Yuri hadn’t cared.

It had been easy to get backstage. Everyone had known Yuri and had been complying way too quickly to let him to the space around rink that was reserved for the competitors. He had been just in time to watch Otabek glide to the middle of the rink. Right before the music had started, he had run to the boards shouting at the top of his lungs.

“Davai!”

Otabek had turned around and stared at Yuri like he had seen a ghost. But then a relieved smile lifted the corners of his lips and he punched into the air.

His performance had been perfect, he had even scored a personal best, but all that Otabek had cared about after leaving the rink had been running up to Yuri and hug him strongly.

“Thank you,” he had mumbled under his breath.

“I’m sorry,” Yuri had answered on the verge of tears.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

The whole night, they had spent together. They had talked. Yuri had apologised a hundred times until Otabek had told him to finally shut up about it. Otabek had also apologised for sending Yuri that text. He had never meant to let him go so easily, but he had realised that it was no use pressuring Yuri and that Yuri had to come back on his own. Then they had talked about Otabek’s new career. Proudly, the Kazakh had told him about the music he had created and how well received it was. And no matter how much it hurt, Yuri could tell by the smile on his face and the sparkle in his eyes that this was the right thing for Otabek to do.

The whole time until the World Championship, they had spent together for as long as they could and even afterwards, they had decided to get as much time together as they could. Otabek had been to Moskov and Hasetsu with Yuri, the Russian had visited his friend in Kazakhstan. These weeks had probably been amongst the happiest in Yuri’s life. But as all good times, they had come to an end and Yuri had to start training for the new season and Otabek had his first tour coming up.

At first, messaging had worked out fine. Just like before, they had texted every day, even called sometimes. For a month or so, nothing had seemed to have changed. But before Yuri had noticed, the interval between their texts grew. The new season, different working schedules and ever changing time zones between them drifted them apart. They had tried to stay strong, though. Tried to keep their contact up. Yet more than once, Otabek had texted him late at night or during practice and Yuri had decided to answer when he had the time to do so. This time had come up four days later when he had finally remembered to reply.

Soon their messages had consisted to 90% of telling the other how sorry they were and how busy their schedule was. Of course, they both had been very understanding. How could they not? It hadn’t been like they didn’t understand each other. They had promised not to stress about it. That they would chat whenever they had the time and the nerves to do so. But those times had already been sparse before and soon had been close to non-existent then.

At some point, Yuri hadn’t known what to talk about anymore. They hadn’t really had a common topic anymore. Of course Yuri could tell him about the annoying skaters at the competitions, but since Otabek was out of skating, he wouldn’t get to meet their annoying personalities first hand. Even if he still followed the season, he would only know their names at max but not how they behaved behind the scenes which made all complaints only half as funny.

This way, after a year of not seeing each other, their contact had completely broken up and weirdly, Yuri had come to terms with it. Sure, he had been sad about it whenever he remembered how important Otabek had been for him, how much he had felt towards him. Yet he had also understood that things changed and that this had been inevitable. At least it had been nice while it had lasted.

More months passed, and Yuri had hardly thought about Otabek anymore. Just one time, one single time, Yuri had had the overbearing urge to call his former friend. In a moment of overwhelming sadness and self-hate, he had desired to hear Otabek’s calm voice, to hear that he had done the right thing and nothing would have changed if he had decided differently. He had needed the deep vibration in his ear, assuring him that everything was fine and that he was allowed to cry his heart out. That he would be there for him no matter what. But how pathetic would it have been to call someone after not talking for over a year, starting with a request. Why should Otabek take care of him as he was falling apart?

Since they had met again, Yuri hadn’t thought about this time and how stupid he had been. Stupid and selfish and haughty. And still Otabek wanted him and their friendship back. Back then and even now. How did he deserve a friend like that? He had treated him so bad and Otabek was still understanding and caring and… perfect.

Yuri cuddled himself into his travelling pillow and the blanket provided by the airline, turning up the volume of the player, and closed his eyes.


	8. Antigravity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: short mention of death (non-canon characters)

“Come to me, my little angel,” Yuri smooched a kiss onto the small girl’s cheek.

The four-year old reached her arms out and let Yuri take her out of her father’s arm into his embrace.

“I missed you so much.”

“Nice to see you, too, Yurio. No need to thank us for picking you up,” Victor grinned.

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Yuri grumbled.

“Don’t be angry at him. You’re not as cute as your daughter, dear,” Yuuri smiled before turning to the skater. “Welcome back.”

He took Yuri’s suitcase and guided him through the airport to the parking lots. Not one second, Yuri let go of Aiko who happily played with the strands that had fallen out of his braid.

Carefully, he sat her down in her child seat behind Victor and then took a seat behind Yuuri in the driver’s seat.

“Did you have a nice flight?” Victor asked, turning over the backrest.

“As nice as a 45 hour journey can be.”

“45 hours? Which route did you take? Via the US and back?”

“Nah. Had to fly via London with a 28 hour stay there.”

“And where did you sleep? If you had told us, we could have made an arrangement for you. Doesn’t one of your friends from your model agency live there?” Yuuri said towards Victor.

“Oh yes. Charles has a house in the outskirts.”

“I was fine. I…” Yuri stopped. “I got an apartment last minute.”

Victor and Yuuri threw gazes at each other, but none of them said a word.

Glad that they let it slide, Yuri turned towards Aiko again.

“And how about you, little Gremlin? How was your vacation?”

“Soooo much fun,” Aiko laughed, spreading her arms to show Yuri how much she had liked her journey to the beach. “We went swimming and Daddy and I built a sandcastle. It was super tall.”

After the cold season, Victor and Yuuri always liked to spend some time in the sun. Well, it was actually Victor who needed the burning heat and a few cocktails under a palm tree, but Yuuri happily agreed to relax in Chris’s beach house in Spain for a while. Of course, they took Aiko with them. It seemed strange to Yuri that they had easily changed their lovey-dovey get-away into a fun family vacation. Yet as far as he knew, they had befriended a local family a while ago and Aiko was happy to play with their kids whenever the couple wanted to spent a romantic evening. It was hard to believe that Victor let his precious daughter out of sight for more than a minute, let alone allowing her to stay overnight with other people, but Yuuri was obviously the calmer, rational parent.

Aiko had come into their family when she had been about a year old. Her parents had died in an accident when she had been only three months old. Yuri had no idea how Victor and Yuuri had heard about her case. It still seemed like the greatest coincidence in history as Aiko was the daughter to a Russian mother and a Japanese father – like what were the odds to that? Due to circumstances that Yuri had forgotten, she had been in the adoption system in the United States – one of the sparse countries that allowed same-sex couples to adopt non-step children without making a huge fuss about it. Probably Victor’s and Yuuri’s fame and fortune had further helped regarding the last point.

At first, Yuri hadn’t been too enthusiastic about them adopting a child. To his knowledge, children were loud and annoying. Nothing was cute about a rosy, drooling meatball.

But then they had brought her home and the moment he had looked into her big blue eyes and heard her happy chuckle he had fallen in love with her. As much as he hated to admit, he loved playing the big brother for her. He took her in gladly when her parents were out on a date night even though Yuuri’s parents loved to have her over as well. It wasn’t easy during the season but as long as Aiko was in pre-school, Victor and Yuuri made sure that one of them stayed in Japan with her and during the holidays she joined them for their travels.

“Anything interesting going on in St. Petersburg?” Victor asked.

“Not much. Lilia is still a beast and Yakov looks even older than last year.”

“And how are Ana and Sofia? I hope they still dance with Lilia.”

“As annoying as always and even if they wanted to leave her, she wouldn’t let them. She knows just too well how good they are.”

“That’s nice to hear.”

“I gladly wasn’t able to see Georgi, because he wasn’t in town, but Mila bribed me to have dinner with her a few times.”

“Is she still running that dance club?”

“Yup. Same horrible music as ever.”

“Seems like nothing has changed since the last time we were there,” Yuuri laughed. 

After they finally had stopped interrogating Yuri, they started to discuss his new practise schedule and what they had to work on for the new routines. It didn’t take long before Yuri stopped taking part in the conversation and simply listened to them as he started outside watching the ocean pass by. It was nice to be back. Although he missed Russia, Yuri couldn’t deny how much he loved Victor’s house by the beach and the onsen. It was calming, watching the seagulls pass by, following the trail that the wind of the sea brushed through the trees.

“Will you play tea party with me?” Aiko asked, pulling him into the house.

“Yuri has to unpack, sweetheart, and I’m pretty sure he’s tired. Let him get some sleep and he’ll surely play with you afterwards,” Yuuri promised his daughter.

“No, I’m fine,” Yuri yawned, not able to say no to those big round eyes. “Just let me bring my bags upstairs and search for the stuff I had to buy for your Daddy.”

“Okay,” she giggled, “I’ll get the table ready.”

“Take your time. I also want to shower. But I’ll be quick.”

She hopped into her room and Yuri sighed.

“You really don’t need to do this. She’ll understand that you’re exhausted.”

“It’s alright. Really. I slept on the plane for a bit, that’ll be enough until tonight. The earlier I get over this jet-lag, the better.”

“If you say so.”

Yuri went upstairs quickly and hopped into the shower. Although he was really exhausted, he felt a lot better after getting the sweat and the closeness of the strangers on the plane off his skin. He changed into sweatpants and a black shirt before he opened his suitcase to search for Victor’s shopping bags. He carried them downstairs and threw them onto the kitchen island. Then, he entered Aiko’s little queendom.

In relation to what Victor had spent on furnishing his own home, he had went overboard with his daughter’s room. A soft pink coloured three of the walls, a beautiful sunset on the forth. Stars that glowed in the dark covered the ceiling and there were more plushies than Aiko actually needed. But she loved every single one of them and a few of the ones she didn’t love as much, she had gifted to children in her pre-school that didn’t have as much as her. Sometimes she was so much like Yuuri that the skater could get sick of it, although he was admittedly very proud of her for being so kind.

In the middle of the room, a small well-laid table was already prepared for him, Aiko’s favourite plushies – a tiger and a poodle – waiting for Yuri as their last guest to arrive.

“You can sit next to Makka and me,” Aiko instructed him and Yuri complied.

The lovely child had called her poodle after Victor’s late dog. The poor thing had died from old age a few years ago. Victor and Yuuri had been devastated, only lifted up by the puppy that had adopted into their family a year earlier. Makkachin had loved Cappuccino from the moment they brought him home. Even though tired and old, he had enjoyed his young company.

“What do you want to drink?”

“I’d like a cup of tea, please.”

Carefully, Aiko pretended to pour some tea into Yuri’s small cup, before helping her other guests. As the perfect little hostess she was, she also served him – this time real – cookies as she told him everything about her vacation.

Silently, Yuri listened to her stories, glad that he didn’t need to talk as much himself. He noticed how the flight had really worn him out, but he didn’t want to disappoint Aiko and leave the party early. She would surely scold him that this was impolite and disrespectful to her other guests. So he stayed, commenting every now and then on her adventures, although he felt his thoughts drifting away.

What was Otabek doing now? What time was it at London? Did he leave for his show or was he back already?

“Are you tired, Yu-chan?”

“A bit. I’m sorry, sweety.”

“Should I brush your hair?”

For some reason, Aiko had taken a special liking to Yuri’s hair. Maybe because it was blond unlike hers or her friends, or maybe because it had grown nearly up to his waist by now. Yuri usually wore it in a pony tail or in a bun, but he allowed Aiko to brush or play with it whenever she liked. Not only because it was actually very relaxing, but once again, he couldn’t say no to her.

“Sit down here, so I can brush it better,” Aiko guided him to sit down in front of her small bed.

She took her position on the mattress behind him, equipped with a brush, hair bands and clips she buckled down to work right away. Yuri gave her a free hand, staring at the sunset wall in front of him.

“It’s getting quite long,” Yuuri said and the Russian lifted his gaze.

“Sorry, what did you say?” he asked.

He hadn’t even noticed that Yuuri had entered Aiko’s room.

“I just noted that your hair became quite long.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Do you want to try and cut it a bit.”

Yuri flinched.

“No!” Aiko decided with a firm voice, “Yu-chan’s not allowed to cut his hair.”

Yuri smiled. “See. I can’t, even if I wanted to.”

His coach chuckled and continued to watch them as Aiko finished braiding. She then hopped down from her bed to get Yuri a mirror so he could watch the result.

Waving the hand mirror in front of his face, Aiko tried to get Yuri’s attention, but he had long spaced out again.

“Come on. You need to look at it,” she pouted.

“Sure, love. Sorry, I’m just really exhausted.”

Happy that he had finally noticed her, Aiko climbed onto the bed again, holding a larger mirror behind Yuri so he could see his hair in the reflection.

“It looks great. Thank you for make me so beautiful,” he praised her.

“Aiko, darling, why don’t you get Yu-chan a cup of water, hm?” Yuuri asked his daughter who complied and left for the kitchen.

Now left in quiet for a moment, Yuuri sat down on the floor next to Yuri.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Sure,” the skater tried to understate what was really going on in his head.

“Really? You don’t look like it.”

“It’s fine. It just…”

“Did anything happen in St. Petersburg?”

“Kinda.”

“Was it him? Did you-“

“No. No. That’s not it.”

“Then what is it? It really seems to bother you.”

Yuri stared at his hands for a while that rested on his knees.

“I met Otabek,” he finally mumbled.

He didn’t need to look up to feel Yuuri’s surprised gaze on him.

“Sorry?”

“I met Otabek,” Yuri admitted a bit louder.

"What?" Victor gasped from the kitchen and quickly came running over.

"I met him in a club when I was out with Sofia and Ana."

"Wait, you were out?" Yuuri asked, obviously more shocked by that fact than his encounter with his former best friend.

"Yeah, they forced me. It was a rock club anyways so no big deal."

"And he was there, too?"

"He was the main act."

"And you two talked?" Victor asked not even hiding his curiosity.

"A bit afterwards. Thanks by the way for giving him my number," he glared at Victor, "nearly got a heart attack when he texted me."

“And?”

“And what?” Yuri asked.

“How is he? What is he up to?”

“He’s fine. Doing pretty well with his new career.”

“That’s nice to hear. Otabek’s always been a great guy. I’m happy that he doesn’t regret his decision,” Yuuri said with a smile.

“Who’s Otabek?” Aiko asked, entering her room with a glass in her hands.

“Thanks,” Yuri said as he took the glass out of her hands, “He’s an old friend of mine.”

“And why have I never met him? You know all of my friends,” she enquired to know.

“I… haven’t seen him in a while.”

“But doesn’t that make you feel lonely? I always get lonely when I can’t see Hana or Yuno.”

“Maybe a bit.”

It was quite weird that Yuri hadn’t felt lonely without his friend for years, but after being with him for just a few hours, he already missed him.

“And will you see him again?”

Why were kids always so curious?

“I already did,” Yuri admitted.

Both Yuuri and Victor rose their eyebrows, causing the skater to roll his eyes.

“More an accident than actual intention. He happened to take the same plane to London as me.”

“And?”

“God, guys. I’m not your teenage daughter, neither a suspect, so please stop questioning me like that.”

“We’re only concerned,” Yuuri tried to reassure him.

“You might be. He, however,” he nodded into Victor’s direction, “is just nosy.”

“You live here rent free, if I may remind you. So I’m entitled to a little gossip.”

“I’d love to pay you rent if that made you shut you da-“

“Yurio!” Yuuri intervened.

The Russian sighed.

“There’s no gossip. We didn’t talk that much. Mostly about what we do now and stuff like that.”

“And how was it?”

“How many times do I have to tell you you’re not my therapists. It was alright, okay? Not as weird as it could have been. Why do you even care?”

“You’ve been really close in the past,” Yuuri noted.

“As you said, ‘in the past’.”

“So you won’t meet him again,” Victor asked.

“How should I know?”

“I want to meet Yu-chan’s friend,” Aiko added.

“We’ll see about that, sweety.”

“I think it would be nice to see him again,” Victor agreed with his daughter. “Why don’t you invite him here.”

“Why does this sound like you want to set him up with me?”

“Maybe,” his coach smirked.

Yuri growled at him and got up. This was way too much for him for how tired he was. He really didn’t have the nerves to handle Victor now.

“I’m going to bed,” he said.

He placed a kiss onto Aiko’s head before leaving for his apartment.

Throwing his clothes to the floor mindlessly, Yuri let himself fall onto his bed. Why had he even told Victor and Yuuri about Otabek. It would have been better to keep quiet about it. Now they would continuously annoy him with their questions. He didn’t even know himself how things would develop from now on. So even if he wanted – which he didn’t – he couldn’t answer their questions. He would like to. Not for their sake but of his own, yet right now, all he wanted to do was sleep.

Yuri growled when he noticed that his phone was still is his jogging pants. Elegantly, he leaned over the mattress and fumbled it out of the pocket. He had totally forgotten that he hadn’t turned it on again. He hadn’t needed it since he had Otabek’s mp3 player to listen to music during the whole flight.

Instantly when he turned it on, messages of Ana and Sofia came in, complaining about him not saying good bye properly – which meant taking them out for dinner. Yuri ignored most of their pouting and rather turned his attention to the third chat with unread messages. Otabek had left time a voice message about three hours ago. Yuri did the math in his mind. He must have sent it around 6 or 7am London time.

Yuri hated voice messages more than anything else. It was annoying to listen to them. If people were too lazy to type, they should just call him. That way he could at least ignore them. More than once, he had forced Sofia to type her messages out, because he had refused to listen to them. Yet coming from Otabek, it felt different. He wasn’t as opposed to it as usual. He wasn’t even annoyed, rather… delighted? Yuri had always loved Otabek’s deep voice and it was a lot nicer to hear him talk than just read his texts.

Falling into the sheets again, Yuri started the message and closed his eyes.

“Hey, I just came home from my show and I’m so tired. I would have texted you, but I can hardly move my fingers anymore. The crowd was great, but I’m surprised I even made it to my bed,” he laughed and Yuri cuddled himself deeper into his pillow. “I just wanted to ask you how your flight was and if you returned home safely. Goodnight, Yura.”

Pressing the back of his hands against his forehead, Yuri let out a moan. His heart shouldn’t pound as much over a stupid message, should it? Taking a deep breath, Yuri swallowed hard before he stared to type.

‘Yo old man. You sure you’re made for this kind of job? I heard the elderly need a lot more sleep than you think. Anyways, I’m back home again, though I kinda regret being here. That damn couple’s already noisy again. Going to bed now, too, practice starts tomorrow. ‘Night.’

With that, he threw his phone onto the other half of his bed and took Otabek’s mp3 player from his nightstand. Closing his eyes again, he allowed the Kazakh and his music to take him over again and carry him into sleep.


	9. Telepathic

„One more time,“ Victor ordered, “I’ll film it this time so we can go over it later.”

“Not everyone has the stamina of your damn husband. Especially not when they just returned from an intercontinental flight,” Yuri panted, his arms resting on his thighs.

They had been practising since early in the morning. Victor had him stretch without mercy to check if his ballet ‘vacation’ had actually done something for him. Even before that, he had Yuri jog to the Ice Castle to get him warmed up after the skater had slept in way too long for his coach’s liking.

“Oh, don’t blame me for your lack of endurance training in Russia. I hoped Lilia would kick your butt, but I get the feeling that you preferred to go partying with your friends instead of working out,” Victor smirked.

Yuri rolled his eyes.

“It was one time.”

“If you say so,” Victor grinned, causing Yuri to growl at him.

“No, I wasn’t going out with Otabek nor did I see him working a second time, if you want to imply that.”

“I didn’t imply anything.”

“Sure. So start that damn music already, I’m getting hungry.”

He slid into the middle of the rink and took his position. Without any warning sounds started dropping from the ceiling, nothing like the first notice of spring rain, but big drops that pattered onto Yuri’s skin. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he stretched out his arm up to his fingers and began to glide over the ice.

Just like before their break, Yuri could easily comply to the straight forward pace, the never-ending stings of rain that soaked his hair and shirt. He wasn’t weighted down by the water but rather dancing above it. When he jumped, it didn’t feel like it he had to take an effort. He was a leaf in the storm, torn from its branch but gently falling to the ground and with the same softness, he landed every single jump.

For the first minute, Yuri felt the same comfort that he had sensed when he had first heard this piece. His thoughts and his whole being aligned which the running of the sounds, once grasped already gone. Yet the closer he got to the second half, the more he realised how his movements didn’t fit anymore. It wasn’t an issue with the choreography. It was the music that didn’t highlight what he wanted to express.

This repetitiveness that Yuri had appreciated at first was perfect to catch the restlessness, the driving force that kept him going on and yet it lead nowhere. For what Yuri was trying to portray, it should be more captivating, luring the listener in, pulling them into his mind where only shadows and a wall of fog waited for them that stuck like liquid tar on them.

Yuri knew it was dark, but this was how he felt inside. How he had felt for years now. He had tried to cover it up and it had worked fine most of the time. But he was done pretending to be what people wanted to see in him. He didn’t want to be seen as that perfect Russian fairy anymore. Sure, he still wanted to intimidate people, teach them to never underestimate him. But he wanted to do it in his own way.

This was the first season, Victor had given him completely free hands for both choreographies. His coach had always taught him how important it was to fit the choreography to the skater. It was no use if it was a beautiful or difficult one, if the skater couldn’t live up to its storyline. Throughout the last years, he and Yuuri had helped him with his programmes. Together, they had been able to create masterpieces, yet despite their perfection, they had always been a reminiscence of what Yuri had been. It had featured trades that he still possessed, but of which his perception had changed. It wasn’t their fault that he had always felt like there was something missing. Not that the crowd or the judges had ever noticed.

Yuri didn’t really want to talk about what was keeping him awake at night. There were already too many people who knew what had happened. But if he was honest with himself, Yuri knew that he had to express his feelings in some way or the other or they would continue to eat him up from inside. He was sure they would do so afterwards as well, yet somehow he had started to believe that it might do some good as well, although he had no idea what good that should be. Maybe deep inside ,he hoped that letting a part of him out without actually having to tell anyone anything would have a cathartic effect. He just had to let loose – which always got to a hold when he reached that point where the music didn’t fit his story anymore.

Yet he had to get used to it. There was no use getting more and more worked up over it. He had searched unsuccessfully for weeks and with the new season approaching quickly, he had accepted that he would never fully be pleased with it, but that was how things worked. He wasn’t pleased with how his whole life had fallen apart and still he was standing here, wasn’t he?

Striking his ending pose, Yuri broke down onto the ice the second the music stopped. Victor was a great coach, but also a monster. Usually, Yuuri was there to keep him from torturing the Russian, but today he and Aiko were picking up Cappuccino from his vacation shelter. In the past, Yuuri’s parents had taken care of the dogs when they had been abroad, but they were too old now to properly take care of an energetic puppy for a few weeks. But it was fine since Yuuri had found a cute, little place that took good care of the dogs with a lot of space for them to run around and play.

“Ok, well done. One hour break,” Victor exclaimed.

“I hate you,” Yuri huffed.

“That’s why you’re paying me.”

“If you weren’t the only half-acceptable coach, I would have killed you a long time ago.”

Yuri glided over the rink and walked out. Sitting down to take off his skates, he thankfully took the water bottle that Victor handed him. He took some huge gulps and wiped away the drops that ran down his chin.

“Hey, um… The recording you just made… Can you send it to me?”

“Huh? I always do.”

“Just wanted to make sure,” Yuri mumbled.

Victor raised his eyebrows, but luckily didn’t ask any questions. Yuri would rather not discuss what he wanted them for. He had thought about it since his talk with Otabek in the taxi to the airport and since then, the wish to show the Kazakh his programme had grown even if it wasn’t finished yet. Although Otabek had left skating years ago, Yuri wanted to hear his opinion, especially since it was his own choreography. In the past, they had often send each other their programmes before the actual competition. Their coaches had not been too happy about that, but they had trusted each other so it had been fine and always a great source of feedback.

This time, however, it wasn’t purely about constructive feedback. Yuri had no idea if Otabek was even interested or invested in figure skating anymore. He surely hadn’t forgotten the basics, but Yuri didn’t know if he was familiar with the latest expectations and trends, although it didn't really matter. Yuri only wanted to learn about his thoughts and maybe he wanted the Kazakh to tell him that he liked it. Which was stupid and childish, but Yuri couldn’t help wishing that his friend would enjoy his performance.

“You ready?” Victor asked and Yuri nodded, following him outside to leave for their lunch break.

On their way home, Yuri sent Otabek the video of his free skate and short programme.

‘Just in case you’re interested,’ he wrote alongside the recordings.

In the past, he might have said something like ‘Look at this masterpiece and die in awe’, but he was way too nervous and excited about Otabek’s reaction that he wasn’t able to boast about something so personal.

When they reached their destination about 20 minutes later, Yuri hadn’t gotten any reply.

‘Of course, you idiot. It’s what time in London? 3:30 in the morning? He doesn’t have another show until later this week, he’s sleeping like any normal person would,’ he scolded himself.

Victor opened the door for them and before they even entered the house, a brown ball of fluff came running towards them. First, it nearly threw Victor over in his joy to see its owner and then occupied Yuri when it had earned himself enough cuddles from Victor.

“Well, little monster, did you like your vacation, too?” he smiled as he fondled the poodle behind his ears.

Cappuccino barked happily before finally allowing them inside.

They ate together with Yuuri and Aiko while the little girl was telling them about all the other puppies in the day care.

“And then there was this huge one. It was so tall, I could have rode his back,” she told them excitedly.

“I’m not sure if he would have liked that, sweety,” Yuri answered when he felt his phone buzz.

He pulled it out of his pocket just enough to see who had the nerves to annoy him and nearly lost his expression.

‘How could I not be interested?’

“Your ballet friends?” Victor asked.

Since Yuri didn’t really have people to text with after he changed his number, he and Yuuri were always curious about who he was texting. It was noisy, but for once, Yuri appreciated their concerns as they had a good reason and only meant well.

“Um,” Yuri grumbled. He really didn’t want to start another conversation about Otabek with his coaches. “Complaining about morning practise.”

‘Why the hell are you awake at this time?’ he typed back under the table.

“It’s not nice to text when we eat, Yu-chan,” Aiko criticised him.

“I’m sorry, dear. I’ll be done in a second.”

‘Forgot time over work,’ Otabek had replied.

‘Fine, but now go to bed. I told you old people need sleep.’

‘Ok, dad ;)’

Yuri furrowed his brows and had a hard time not growling at his phone, yet since he didn’t want Aiko to be mad at him, he put it away and instead continued to listen to her talking about all the other dogs she had met.

Of course, Otabek didn’t listen to Yuri as he received another text when he was back on his way to the rink.

‘It’s amazing how you manage to surprise me after all those years. It’s astonishing how much you’ve improved and the choreographies are amazing. I hope I’ll get the chance to see them live one day.’

Yuri smiled softly at the message, despite the heavy weight in his chest. Somehow, he had expected something different. More. But it was fine. Otabek seemed to like his programmes and this was what Yuri had wanted in the first place, hadn’t he? He shouldn’t ascribe that much importance to a simple text and the best way to ignore the slight disappointment, was to train his ass off.

For the next four days, Yuri spent as much time at the rink as he could. The first days of training for the new season were the hardest and most exhausting. The good thing about it, however, was that this way, he fell into bed every night and was so tired that his brain didn’t seem to have the capacity for any nightmares.

Yet there was also a bad side about it. Besides all his training, he had hardly any time to text Otabek. He had done so once or twice, but had only gotten short replies until the Kazakh had stop answering completely yesterday.

‘It’s fine,’ Yuri thought when he laid in his bed on his first free day. ‘After working for so long, he surely has some sleep to catch up. And he mentioned he had friends who wanted him to stop by. He’s just busy.’

‘Yeah, just as busy as you both were before you lost contact.’

Yuri closed his eyes and a deep growl left his throat. He wanted to convince himself that it would be different this time. That they would make it. A few days of not texting was completely normal, wasn’t it? Nobody wrote each other every day, did they? He was overreacting. There was nothing to worry about – aside from the fact that he was already way too attached to Otabek again.

How long had it been that they met again? A month and a half? That was nothing and Yuri was already losing his shit again. What the hell was it with Otabek that he wasn’t able to keep his cool. Despite all the time that had passed, his whole body seemed to be on the same level as five years ago. It had also forgotten about the awkwardness of their first reencounters and only focused on how familiar Otabek was.

And Yuri was scared of this. He never wanted to let anyone come so close to him again and now he was here, freaking out over not having heard from the Kazakh in two fucking days. He didn’t like what this was doing with him and he hated even more that he was scared of losing Otabek again. Just thinking about the possibility felt like a rock was resting on his chest. The ceiling above him seemed way too close, building pressure on his lungs and Yuri needed to get out of there and cool his head.

Quickly, he changed into his protection gear and left his apartment. He hurried down the stairs to the garage next to their house and lifted the covering sheet off his motorbike. The deep sound of the engine starting was music in his ears and without waiting any longer, he rode into the late afternoon.

God, how much had he missed this feeling of freedom. The wind that blew through his hair, the landscape that passed by in a rush – all those things made Yuri feel like he could fly. The speed with which he rode down the streets by the sea erased all worries and thoughts that had occupied his mind and left an emptiness fostered by dopamine and adrenaline. Yuri had no idea where exactly he was heading. He didn’t have a destination. He didn’t need one. The journey, the roaring of the machine underneath and sun above him was enough.

When the sun was already setting, Yuri parked by the beach not too far from home and sat down in the sand. He watched the seagulls gliding in the air and the waves washing against the shore. Closing his eyes, Yuri concentrated on the scent of the ocean as his body calmed down from the rush of adrenaline. It would be great if he could just fall asleep here and stay forever.

But of course, there was something disrupting his peace just when he found it. Victor always had the perfect timing to annoy him. He was certainly worried about him and wanted to know when he would be home. When would they finally understand that he was a more or less reasonable adult who was able to take care of himself?

He fumbled his phone out, ready to type a message with as many swearwords as he could get into it when his heart stopped.

‘Sorry for not texting. I hope this feels right.’

Attached to Otabek’s message was a sound file that hadn’t been recorded in the app itself.

With trembling hands, Yuri pulled his headphones out and started the track.

There was a faint piano playing in a continuous, never-stopping flow. It was similar to the one of Yuri’s free skate and yet totally different. It had the same vide, but the melody was completely different – melancholic, darker and so heavy despite the soft pattering that Yuri’s heart clenched. What had started slow and with longer notes quickly turned into a strong rain of tones. As the water rose up to Yuri’s knees, the deep sounds of a bass guitar vibrated in the Russian’s ear, shaking him to the core. He was trembling, not from the cold but from the tension that build up more and more until the thunderstorm finally erupted. A heavily distorted guitar replaced the piano in the stroke of a lightning and took Yuri’s breath away. He was only able to think again when the thunderstorm calmed down and only the repetitive pattering of the raindrops of the piano were dropping gently onto his skin as if the dark clouds had never existed.

Yuri came to his senses long after the track had completely faded. His breath was going heavily, his heart pounding so hard he could taste it on his tongue. He didn’t even need to listen to it again to know what this was.

‘When did you make this?,’ he typed, although his fingers were hardly listening to him.

‘Had the idea since you showed me the original piece and have been working on it since. All I needed to finish it was to see your routine.’

'But it must have taken you hours? And you didn't have any instruments with you, how did you even make this?'

'Don't worry about it, I can catch up on sleep later. I have friends in London who allowed me to use their equipment.'

Yuri stared into the darkening sky.

‘Why?’

He didn’t even wait for a reply, but put the track on again. And again. And again. He soaked in every note, every single sound until it came as natural as breathing. He closed his eyes again and went through his choreography in his mind. Everything fitted so perfectly as if it was sewn onto Yuri’s body. Every single movement he had designed, even the smallest extension of his fingertips was not only supported but highlighted by the track. It was everything Yuri had been looking for and more. Everything he hadn’t been able to say in years, that had been roaring inside him, desperate to get out was laying in front of him in form of piece of music. He was looking into a mirror that didn’t reflect his own image but his pure soul. It was simply perfect.

‘I did it, because I wanted to see you happy. If that’s all it takes, I’ll gladly do it again.’

Otabek had created this. For him. Despite not knowing Yuri how he was now, despite having any idea what had happened and what was going on in his mind, Otabek had found the melody Yuri’s soul had been trying express but had failed. He had looked into his heart and had copied the notes that had already been written down there, craved into the tissue yet inaudible to anyone.

Without thinking, Yuri opened his chat with Otabek again and hit the record button. Maybe it was untypical for him, but he was so over the place it was a wonder he hadn’t let his phone fall down.

“I… Fuck…” he started off, too shaken to form a meaningful sentence. “I don't know what to say. I should probably ask you how you dare using highly confidential practise material for your job or why you would think that you're eligible to compose something for the current Grand Prix, Europe and World Champion. But.." he swallowed, all his mockery gone. "Fuck I…This is perfect. This is so fucking perfect. I really don't know what to say, besides… Thank you."

His voice was trembling at the end, but he still released the recording button, sending the message which he immediately regretted. Wasn’t it embarrassing to become so emotional over a piece of music? Yet this wasn't just a piece of music. It was something Otabek had composed. A piece that was written on Yuri's soul. Something that was just for him alone.

Before he could even contemplate on deleting the message, it changed its colour, signalising Yuri that Otabek had already started to listen it.

He could hear his own heartbeat loud and clear as he watched how Otabek typed something, deleted it and typed something again.

‘I’m happy you like it.’

Yuri swallowed hard before letting himself fall backwards into the sand, a smile on his lips.

One more time, he listened to the track before he returned to his bike. As he put on his helmet, he accidently wiped away a single tear. Yuri looked down on his slightly wet finger in surprise. This was the first time he had cried since that fateful competition four years ago that had turned out to be the beginning of his downfall.


	10. Wherever You Will Go

Yuri had no idea who often he had listened Otabek’s track that night. As soon has he had come home, had pulled out his good headphones, falling onto his bed while only listening to the music. At first, he had visualised his choreography and how the movements would now fit onto the melody. Some twists of the guitar or an unexpected change in the harmony even inspired him to make small adjustments to his programme which would elevate his message even more.

After a while, however, Yuri had let all thoughts go and simply soaked the music in with his calm breath. He surely had repeated it over 30 times already, but he was sure he would never get sick of it, because this track was him. Lying flat on his back, Yuri felt like his body was disintegrating. It came apart into its particles that floated about his former vessel and mixed with the sound waves wafting in the air.

Never before had a piece of music touched him so much and normally, Yuri would have questioned his reaction. The longer he listened to it, the more he was dissolving until he was empty in the best possible way. The music was expressing his emotions so perfectly, he didn’t need to wrap his head around them anymore. He didn’t need to occupy himself with them. He could rest, nothing, not a thought nor a feeling disrupting him.

He really needed to thank Otabek for what he had done. Not like this half-assessed thank you he had recorded. No, Otabek deserved to know who much this meant to Yuri. The Russian had just no idea how to do this. He had never been good in expressing his emotions, especially thanking someone properly. Nowadays he was a total wreck, having discarded his sensations long ago and now that they came crawling back, he was slightly overwhelmed to say the least. But he wanted to try. He had made it once, he could to it again.

The sun burned down on Yuri’s head as he waited for Otabek to get their luggage ready, although they didn’t have that much.

“Is this supposed to be so damn hot?” he asked, trying not to melt in his protective gear.

“It’s supposed to protect you, so yes.”

“How do you even move in this?”

“Oh come on. It’s not that bad and it’ll get better once we’re on the road,” Otabek assured him.

“I’m not sure about that.”

“If it annoys you so much, you can take it off. But then you’ll stay here as well.”

Yuri rolled his eyes despite knowing Otabek was right. Safety was important. But why did it have to be so uncomfortable? Although… there was one thing good about it. It looked incredibly hot on Otabek. The tight, black leather made him look so damn badass and Yuri was instantly reminded of the first time they had met.

“You ready?” Otabek asked him and sat down on his motorcycle.

“I’ve only been waiting for you,” Yuri answered as he put his helmet and the backpack on.

“Then hold on tight.”

The Kazakh started the engine and stepped on the gas, inviting Yuri to take his seat behind him.

Yuri loved the deep growling of the engine, the vibration underneath him and the light scent of gasoline. He had liked it from the moment he had first rode with Otabek.

Since then, Otabek had taken him on a few rides every now and then which had allowed them to get accommodated to each other. Otabek had told him a while ago that it wasn’t easy to ride with a passenger, especially at high speed. It took a lot more concentration and control over the bike as well as a certain relaxation on the passenger’s part. If they didn’t lean and keep the momentum up at the right times, it would be a lot harder to keep the bike stable.

All those things had intimidated Yuri a bit when Otabek had invited him on a longer, non-city ride, but as it turned out, he was a natural. That was at least what Otabek had said to him, although Yuri was sure that it was only the harmony between them that made it so easy for him to follow the Kazakh’s lead. Not that he would admit it out loud. He trusted his friend, he didn’t need to worry about his safety when he was riding with Otabek. He could easily close his eyes and just feel the movements of his friend and the air rushing by.

Riding through the city was always nerve-wracking. There was as much traffic in Almaty as in any other big city and Yuri was relieved when they finally left the larger driveway to turn away from the cars and the masses of concrete. Otabek lead them to the smaller, winding roads that weren’t the fastest ways to reach a destination. Their destination was the road itself, the fresh air and the beautiful landscape around them, there was no fastest way to reach that. They had no detailed plan where they wanted to go, where they would sleep. They only had seven days, a bit of money, a sleeping bag and one change of clothes each and even a motorcycle compatible tent of which Yuri had never known that such things existed. He couldn’t be more excited about it.

When Otabek had first invited him on this trip, Yuri had thought he was kidding. Taking one complete week off, completely cut off from the internet and the people around them had sounded as crazy as irrational – and therefore completely perfect. It had taken a bit of planning and a lot of convincing on Yuri’s side that Yakov would leave him in Otabek’s care for such a long time. Although Yuri would have loved to start immediately after the end of the season, they had decided to wait until the summer in order for it to be warm enough. They had planned to find small guest rooms or hotels for the nights, but in case there were no vacancies, they would simply sleep somewhere outside. They had discussed the opportunity to book rooms beforehand, but they had decided against it. It would be a lot more fun to just see where their journey was leading them to rather than following a fixed route.

Holding tight onto Otabek, his arms wrapped around his friends middle, Yuri felt his body relaxing into his position. The tension from the past months vanished with every kilometre they left behind them. He felt the strands of hair that lurked outside his helmet flatter in the wind that blew through them. At the same time, the incredible speed was pumping adrenaline through his veins like nothing else managed to do. His reason should tell him that his was pure madness and that this could probably kill him or even end his career, but there was no reason to worry. Otabek knew very well what he was doing and Yuri had never felt safer around anybody.

For hours they rode through the stunning landscape – green, untouched hills surrounding them while the snow-capped mountains pilled up against the horizon. Yuri had never been interested in nature before. He had grown up in a big city, lived in a big city for all his life. His trip to Hasetsu had been the closest nature-related experience he had had so far. Until he had met Otabek that was. Their previous trips had also lead them outside the busy city centres, yet this was different. They didn’t have to be back at a hotel room at the end of the day. They didn’t have a competition coming up.

Every now and then, they took a short break for Otabek to relax or to drink something. They didn’t wait until they passed by a small village. Whenever they found a place they liked, they stopped right there and rested for as long as they wished to before hitting the road again.

Snuggling closer to Otabek, Yuri lost himself in the view that surrounded them. It sounded stupid, but this whole situation was so damn wholesome, Yuri felt like the stress that was deeply engraved into his body had never even existed. He didn’t care about all the things that awaited him after this week was over. The only thing he wanted to do for the rest of his life was sitting behind Otabek, exploring the nature of his friend’s home country. This journey was unlike everything Yuri had experienced before. He would never have believed that the plane, simple beauty of a deserted, pure landscape could be so beautiful it was taking his breath away.

For their first night, they found a cute little inn that actually had a few guest rooms, although Yuri wondered how often strangers stopped by throughout the year. They also served very traditional food that Yuri had never heard of before. Yet everything tasted great and before they knew, they fell into their beds, sleeping soundly through the night. The next morning they got up, had breakfast, restocked their food and drink supplies and didn’t waste a second more before they hit the road again.

The next days continued in a similar fashion, only their resting locations and the scenery changed. Yuri had no idea that the area around Almaty was so diverse. They had crossed hills and mountains, deep forests and even deserts and there seemed to be no end to this variety. Wherever they went, there was always something new to discover. The scenery left him speechless and with so many new impressions, it was hard to wrap his head around. He understood why Otabek loved his country so much and why he had invited Yuri on this trip. And if Yuri took something home with him, it was all those beautiful pictures that couldn’t even be captured on photographs combined with the sensation of Otabek close to him.

Maybe, it hadn’t been the wisest decision to simply say yes to a journey that would require him to hold tightly onto his crush for the most time. Throughout the past year, Yuri had become incredibly aware of his feelings for Otabek. He tried to not let them get to him, but from time to time they bubbled up and it was hard to act normal around his friend. Therefore, he had feared that it would be strange to be so close to him all the time, yet he was surprisingly fine. He was simply able to enjoy their contact and not read too much into it.

It got a bit harder, however, when they didn’t find a room to sleep in. They had to camp outside in the small tent that they could attach to the motorbike and although Yuri loved to be surrounded by nature even longer, it was nerve-wrecking to sleep next to Otabek in the tiny tent. Of course, they had slept in the same bed quite a few times, but never so cramped up. Not that he wanted to complain, not at all. It was nice cuddle up to him or Otabek pulling him onto his shoulder. It had taken Yuri’s heart a few nights to get used to it, though. It had been hammering against his chest it was a wonder that Otabek hadn’t heard it.

Just like it did now. It was the last night of their tour. The weather was beautiful and although the sun had set hours ago, it was still warm. The sky was clear, every single star and the milky way visible. No city lights disturbed their view. Therefore, they had decided to sleep outside, just in their bedrolls. Yuri was laying on Otabek’s arms, the Kazakh playing with his hair. They stared up into the sky, counting how many small glowing gas balls were there in contrast to the black night sky.

“Did you see the shooting star?” Otabek whispered.

“Yeah.”

“And did you wish for something?”

“That’s stupid. Those things won’t come true anyways.”

“But it won’t hurt to try.”

“Did you wish for something?” Yuri asked.

“Sure.”

“And what?”

“If I tell you, it won’t come true.”

“Well then I’ll wish for this trip to never end.”

“It doesn’t count if you wish for something you know can’t come true,” Otabek chuckled. “Although I’d really love that, too,” he added in a silent whisper.

“Then I want us to skate together until we’re old and grey.”

“I told you you’re not supposed to tell me.”

“But it’s easy to make it come true. You just need to promise me, you’ll stay with me skating until the end.”

“Yura…”

“What?” Yuri turned around, resting his chin on Otabek’s chest.

“We don’t know what the future will bring.”

“But skating’s your life just as it is mine. Why should we do something else?”

Otabek hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“Then just promise me, you’ll never leave skating without me, okay? I have no idea what I’m supposed to do without you.”

The Kazakh sighed and ruffled through Yuri’s hair. “Okay, I promise.”

When Yuri woke up the next morning, he stared at the ceiling. He hadn’t dreamed about this summer with Otabek in a long, long time. Thinking back, this had probably been the last time he had truly been happy, because afterwards, his life had went down step by step. Even though it hurt, it was nice remembering those days in the nature around Almaty. He might have forgotten about them, but with every minute that passed, more and more pictures of their trip came back to his mind.

A soft smile appeared on his lips, before a bittersweet taste spread out on his tongue. Otabek had probably known at this point that he would quit skating. Their trip had happened right before his last season had started. Now, it made totally sense to Yuri why he hadn’t wanted to promise Yuri to stay with him until the end. He had already known that he wouldn’t be able to keep it.

Maybe it had been Yuri’s fault. Otabek had warned him not to tell him about his wish. He also had pushed Otabek to make this promise. The Kazakh hadn’t had much chance against him. And still, Yuri remembered clearly how happy he had been, knowing that Otabek would never leave his side. Despite not being in the way he had wished for, he could have at least stayed his friend.

And they were friends. Again. Not the whole time, but they were trying to get it right, weren’t they? It wouldn’t be easy, but this time, Yuri would do everything to make it last. Because Otabek was the reason he had dreamed of something pleasant in a long time.

“Yurio!” Yuuri’s voice resonated from downstairs. “It’s time for breakfast.”

With a growl, Yuri got up, dressed himself and walked downstairs. He had his own kitchen, but sometimes it was easier to just eat with his coaches.

“Good morning,” Victor and Yuuri greeted him.

“Morning.”

“Where’ve you been yesterday? Aiko has been looking for you.”

“I’ve been… out. Driving.”

“As long as you didn’t exhaust yourself,” Victor remarked.

“Anyways, Victor and I thought that we should start polishing your free skate. There are still a few things that we need to work on and it’s time we finish the programmes.”

“Actually…” Yuri started.

“Yeah?”

“There’s something I need to show you.”


	11. Invisible Things

Skating to Otabek’s song for the first time had been… indescribable. Never before, Yuri had felt like he could truly be himself. Like the music didn’t try to tell a story, but was him. The whole choreography had come as easy as if he had never done something different. It had been engraved into his body, every single muscle knowing intuitively how to move. His jumps had never been so light, his landing never so perfect. His step sequences felt more like actual dancing than gliding on the ice. Even the adjustments he had added last night on a whim fitted perfectly. They had been destined to be a part of his programme from the beginning. Yuri just hadn’t known that they were supposed to be there.

„Where did you get this from?” Yuuri asked in astonishment after the Russian had shown them his adjusted free skate.

“Is that important?”

“Well, it would be good to know since we need to registrate it beforehand,” Victor said as he shrugged his shoulders.

“And we need a licence for it,” Yuuri added.

“Don’t worry about performance rights.”

“So why won’t you tell us?”

Yuri rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Did you decide to commission something?”

“Not quite.”

“Yurio,” Victor said in his coach-voice that Yuri hated so much.

“Okay, Otabek made it for me.”

For quite a while both his coaches looked at him like he had grown wings and a tail.

“He did what?” Yuuri suddenly mumbled out of his state of shock.

Rubbing his finger against his forehead and temple, Yuri asked himself if it wouldn’t have been better to say quiet.

“I told him that I wasn’t really happy with the piece I had picked. And he obviously saw that as a challenge and composed something for me.”

“That’s,” Victor seemed to be dumbfounded for once, “very nice of him.”

“Yeah and can we please close that topic now?”

Yuri really didn’t want to discuss Otabek with his coaches again. He had done so enough the day when he had returned to Japan. His mind was already going crazy over it on his own, he didn’t need his noisy coaches to poke around. Both Victor and Yuuri were quite aware of what he had once felt for Otabek. Of course, he had never told them, but looking back, Yuri was sure that he been pretty obvious about it. Even his grandfather had put one and one together quickly.

The last thing that Yuri needed was Victor and Yuuri – mostly Victor, though – to make stupid, unnecessary remarks. It was hard enough to wrap his own head around what was going on between him and Otabek and their relationship and everything behind it. Just one annoying comment would throw him off.

Not that they would actually try to suggest something. Both his coaches were well aware of his attitude towards romantic relationships and dating. Still, Yuri would already hate for both of them to only think about him and Otabek and what might or might not be there. That wasn’t their business. They knew enough already. Too much if Yuri was asked. And also, it wasn’t like there was anything more to poke into. They were friends. Nothing more, nothing spectacular. Just like in the past. Weren’t they?

“Alright,” Victor said, clapping into his hands, “let’s go through everything at a slower pace, so you can show us all the elements that you’ve changed.”

For about three hours, Yuri repeated sequence after sequence, discussing the adjustments and the choreography as a whole over and over again. Here and there, they had a few remarks, but overall they were really happy with it. Especially Yuuri who had been worried about the skater not feeling the programme to its fullest.

“Just two more times and we’ll take a break,” Yuuri decided after they had set the routine straight.

“I’ll film the second one. And of course, I’ll sent it to you. Just in case you want to share it with a certain composer,” Victor grinned and it took Yuri a huge amount of self-composure not to take off his skates and throw them right at his coach.

These were the comments he had apprehended. It was just one so far, but it was already annoying as hell. If it weren’t for Aiko, Yuri might actually plan on murdering Victor. But was the best for her if she grew up with both her parents. Although… Yuuri was a loving parent on his own. She’d also be fine with just…

‘No, Yuri! Stop that!’ he thought.

He bit onto his lip and took his position in the middle of the rink.

His programme was really exhausting, but with the music matching perfectly now, it hardly felt like he was about to vomit his lunges out afterwards. It rather resembled flying or lying on a soft bed while watching a thunderstorm through a window.

At the end of the two turns, he was wrecked, but also very, very content with his work. Finally, the sweat on his skin felt like he had earned it and that he was allowed to take a rest. There was nothing that was incomplete. He didn’t need to finish anything. He just had to practise and train and practise. But this was something he was good at.

On their way home to take a lunch break, Yuri obviously sent Otabek his practise video. He had composed the track. He was more than eligible to see what Yuri had made out of it. It wasn’t easy to not look at his phone every two minutes to check for his answers, but the Russian tried to compose himself. He wouldn’t get a reply anyways. If he remembered correctly, Otabek would soon be on his way to his next gig in… What was it? France? Ireland? At least he had to catch an airplane sometime today. And even if he didn’t, he must have a huge sleep deficit. He hadn’t told Yuri how many hours he had been working on the song, but from what Yuri got, it must have cost him several days and nights that he had rather needed to rest from his shows.

It was unnecessary to be so nervous and excited about his reaction and still, Yuri didn’t want to miss it. This goal wasn’t easy to reach, however, as Yuri had to return to train even more about an hour later. This afternoon, ballet and an extended stretching sessions were on his plan. He couldn’t check his phone every few minutes without catching Victor or Yuuri’s attention.

It was way past midnight when his phone finally buzzed. Yuri had already been half asleep at that point, but the vibrations were enough to wake him up immediately.

‘Sorry for taking so long to reply. I slept so long I nearly missed my flight. I just landed in Paris and saw your message.

I don’t need to tell you that you’re beautiful, right? I mean, you’ve always been amazing, but this programme is so stunning, I can’t even describe it. It don’t want to sound pretentious, but it looks even better with the new track.

Watching you skate to my music hits so different. I’m glad I could make your performance even better, though I’m sure you didn’t need me. But I can’t deny I’m enjoying it. It feels like I’m there with you. It makes me wish I could watch you in person.’

The thought of sleep was blown away by the heavy pounding in Yuri’s chest. His stomach felt like thousands of little butterflies tried to leave their cocoons. His hands were trembling above keyboard unsure of what to respond. It would be nice to evade it, but Otabek must have seen that he had read the message, especially since he was still online.

Otabek deserved to know how grateful he was and that he had done an amazing job. He had expressed this last night already, yet skating to his track had made Yuri realise truly how perfect it had been and that it was everything that he could have wished for.

‘Oh don’t be all selfless and pretend like you’re not proud of yourself. You did quite a decent job on fitting it to my choreography, so you’re allowed to brag about it. Just don’t ride the high horse. But I might consider commissioning you in the future.’

Yeah, he wasn’t good at expressing his feelings at all. Yuri just hoped Otabek would understand the intention behind it.

‘That would be really gracious of you,’ Otabek replied, ‘it’s been a lot of fun, so I wouldn’t mind the extra work.’

Yuri grinned, reading from Otabek’s message that he had completely understood what Yuri had wanted to say in his weird way.

‘I’m not going to pay you though,’ Yuri typed, ‘it should be enough of an honour to do something for me. You’ll be paid in social media reach.’

‘You’re not going to even treat me to dinner? I would have said yes, if you made Piroshki for me, but now I have to reconsider your offer.’

‘Fuck you,’ Yuri replied, smirking broadly. ‘I’m going to bed now.’

‘Sleep tight, Yura.’

The following weeks, Yuri and Otabek continued to chat like that. They even started to call each other when the time difference wasn’t too large. Yuri had to get used to it at first. He hated phone calls in general, but the worst thing was that he wasn’t able to see the counterpart’s face. He had learned to never trust his senses and gut feeling anymore. Being deprived of extra sensual input was highly uncomfortable.

Yet again, Otabek made everything easy. He seemed to have noticed that Yuri had been hesitant at first, so he started talking about unimportant things like what he had done the past few days, how much his sisters were annoying him with what things he should buy them. It had helped Yuri a lot to loosen up and soon it had felt like they had never stopped. Especially when he was having troubles falling asleep, Otabek was more than willing to talk him into slumber. Aside from being really comfortable and relaxing, it also helped Yuri with his nightmares. He still had them quite often, but at least one night a week, he was spared from them. 

Just like that one month passed and then another and their relationship was pretty much on the same level as before. At least that was what Yuri felt like. He didn’t hesitate to blow off his steam by talking Otabek when he was annoyed and he loved how much Otabek was confiding in him by showing him his latest tracks, asking Yuri for his opinion.

“And how’re you doing aside from practising?” Otabek asked as Yuri lay on his back, headphones in his ear as they had their nearly obligatory weekend call.

“Fine, I guess. Not that I’m doing much else. Victor doesn’t give me much spare time, but that was to be expected. I’m used to it anyways.” He paused. “It’s just bothering me that Aiko’s been really demanding lately. She wants to go to the beach every day, because it gets warmer. I’m kinda sorry I always have to put her off. I adore her, but I’m not going to take care of her and a puppy on my own on my only free day of the week.”

“Puppy?”

“Cappuccino. He’s Victor and the pig’s one.”

“Cappuccino?”

“Yeah, I know the name is stupid. They gave it to him after he tried to drink from Victor’s cup for the whole time they visited the shelter.”

“And what about Makkachin?”

Yuri didn’t answer right away. “He died about two years ago. They got Cappuccino maybe 4 months before that. So he’s basically still a puppy. Or at least he acts like one. They were devastated but he helped them a lot. He’s quite energetic and required a lot of attention when he first came here.”

“Sounds like he’s a handful.”

“He’s great. I mean, he’s still a dog, but aside from that he’s great. But still, he and Aiko together are a mess to watch over.”

“Well then Aiko doesn’t seem to be very independent if you have to take care of both of them.”

“Not really. She can be quite clingy sometimes. But that’s what I love about her.”

Otabek didn’t say something in return, so Yuri decided to keep the conversation going.

“And how about you? What are your plans for the next few months?”

“I’m having a week off starting next Friday and then I’ll leave for the US. I don’t really look forward to the flight, but I’ve been there before and the clubs I’m going to work at are great.”

“How many stops will you have there?”

“Four in the USA and afterwards two or three in Canada.”

“Two or three?” Yuri laughed, “You can’t even keep track of your gigs?”

“I’m not the one who nearly switched the days of the of the Four Continents and the European Championship.”

“Fuck you. I didn’t compete in the Four Continents anyway, so it doesn’t matter,” Yuri grumbled, being a little embarrassed being reminded of that incident.

“Mhm. Anyways, it depends on the organiser of the Vancouver Pride if they decide to have a rock related event or not.”

“They asked you to work at the Vancouver Pride?”

“Yeah.”

“And why did they choose you?”

“Because I’m good?” Otabek laughed. “No, I’ve been working with a lot of queer artists lately to give them more opportunities to express their message to a broader audience.”

For a second, Yuri’s heart missed a beat. Had he actually hoped for Otabek to tell him he was gay? They had never talked about their sexualities since both of them had been too busy to even think about dating. Not that it mattered if Otabek was queer in any kind of way. He didn’t think of Yuri as a potential love interest anyway. Just as Yuri did. He didn’t think about Otabek in that way anymore. Did he?

“That’s really great of you,” he replied when he regained his composure.

“It’s not different from working with other artists. If they have good message to tell, I’ll work with them, no matter the topic. If they don’t, I won’t. It’s that easy.”

“Still, it’s a really good cause.”

“Not that I mind, but since then have you been interested in the queer community?”

‘Since I’ve fallen in love with you, idiot,’ Yuri thought.

“Hello? I’m living with the gayest, happiest couple on earth.”

“Fair,” the Kazakh laughed.

“I’m sad that I won’t be able to see you performing any time soon. It was quite nice even though I was mostly in shock when you were in St. Petersburg.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment.”

“I’m not sure I like that ego growth of yours.”

Otabek laughed, but then fell silent.

“Hey, um, my manager told me that I’ve been booked for a few shows in Japan in late August. Tokyo, Nagoya and Osaka. I have a few days off afterwards. If you don’t mind, I’d really like to see you.”

Yuri was really relieved that they didn’t video call, because his face heated up instantly, making him resemble a ripe tomato. His heart flattering, Yuri was hardly able to get himself under control. His wish to see Otabek on stage again was mostly stemming from the desire to meet him in person again. Only the thought of this possibility coming up in two months made his heart race like his motorbike on an empty street.

“Actually… I won’t mind it. Not at all.”


End file.
